


It Just Keeps Happening

by avagueidea



Series: It's Still Happening [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Keith is also emotionally inept, Keith is socially inept, Lance is ... Lance, M/M, Mostly Keith's POV, They start out making out and then proceed to take way to long to figure out why, look emotions are hard!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-14 04:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7999129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avagueidea/pseuds/avagueidea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It hadn’t been intentional. Not to say it was a mistake, but Keith hadn’t exactly anticipated finding himself pressed between a wall and Lance’s body with a tongue down his throat. He was fairly sure it started out as a competition to Lance."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Look, Keith, It's SPACE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's space, shit happens.

       It hadn’t been intentional. Not to say it was a _mistake_ , but Keith hadn’t exactly anticipated finding himself pressed between a wall and Lance’s body with a tongue down his throat. He was fairly sure it started out as a competition to Lance. They had been talking about relationships then how many people they’d dated (Keith won with a whopping 1 ex), which quickly derailed into how many people they’d kissed (they’d tied at 2 apiece). Lance had then declared he’d take the lead and now he was kissing Keith—no. Wait. They would both be at three then. That didn’t make sense.

       Lance nipped at his bottom lip and Keith involuntarily sucked in a sharp breath and it was all Lance. He’d never thought about the scent that Lance managed to keep up even gallivanting around space until he was gasping it in and could practically taste it. He couldn’t really describe it, but he realized now he’d already known it.

       Keith had no idea what he’d been trying to figure out the moment before. It didn’t seem all that important anymore. His hand smacked blindly back for the control panel to open Lance’s door because, while he wasn’t exactly ashamed at the idea of being caught making out with Lance like the horny teenagers they were—well, no maybe he was. But really, who wants someone walking in on them making out with _anyone_? They toppled back into Lance’s room as soon as the door opened. Keith had to fight his way back to get it closed again. Lance was not letting him break the kiss for even a second so he had to drag them both back.

       Lance’s long fingers ran through his hair with just enough of a grip that he could really _feel_ them make their way to the back of his head. An appreciative sigh hooked in his throat and ended up sounding much more like a moan that Keith had anticipated. Well, that was embarrassing. Or he thought it should be, but the fingers in his hair just tightened and forced his head to tilt a little for Lance to smother any future sounds completely. Keith wasn’t going to complain because that extra little tug might have wrenched out a similar sounding noise.

       Lance was just backing them up towards his bed when the blaring of the alarms shocked them apart. Keith’s heart was pounding as fast as the lights were flashing. His mind took a sharp turn. He jumped away from—whatever was going on with Lance, and started at a full run towards the command room. Shit. Where had he left his bayard? He’d been so good at keeping it on him, but _Lance_ had distracted him. He cursed under his breath and decided he would go to the command room first, figure out his bayard second.

 

~*~*~

 

       Keith had assumed the spontaneous make out session would be a one time thing, Lance trying to somehow one up him (he isn’t sure anyone had ‘won’ that encounter, but who knew what Lance thought on the matter). He was surprisingly wrong. Or maybe it wasn’t so surprising. Keith had come to realize over the years that he was not, in fact, very good at predicting people in anything except hand to hand combat. As it turned out, least of all Lance.

       After it had happened, he expected to get pulled aside for the ‘that never happened, okay?’ speech, because Lance was ‘straight’, or whatever. Or, maybe, just an agreed upon ‘let us never speak of this again’ nod and then an awkward halting return to the normal routine between them. He was prepared for that sort of response. He’d dealt with that before. Instead, Lance was just normal. He went right on being Lance, arguing with Keith, giving crazy suggestions, almost messing up missions but making it all work at the last possible second. He didn’t even seem to remember they _had_ made out, except kept happening.

       Keith would be the last one before ‘night’ to turn in after training and Lance would still be there in the prep room, changing his socks slower than Keith would have thought was physically possible. Keith would leave the rec room and Lance would just happen to be leaving too. Then there were times like today when Lance just dragged him right back to his room after a tedious mission on a dessert planet.

       Lance smelled particularly Lance-y today, but it was probably the sweat. His shirt was still drenched in it. Keith pushed him away before he could press his sweat soaked shirt onto him. He had spent the day with Shiro and Pidge doing recon in caves. Lance and Hunk had had to spend the whole day with two different suns baking them, and it showed.

        “You reek,” he stated bluntly. Lance frowned, looking offended. He pulled back to argue but then pauses to actually smell himself.

        “… Fine,” Lance conceded, though he didn’t seem happy about it. “Wait here,” he instructed before turning on his heels and nearly running into the adjacent little washroom.

       For the first time since this whole weird thing started, Keith was given a moment to stop and really think about what was going on here. It’d been almost two weeks, or that was his best approximation converting from Altaen days (they hadn’t decided if ticks were longer than seconds still though so he might be off). He tried to figure out how this kept happening, why he kept letting it happen. Hell, he could just leave. He heard the shower start up in the next room over and he couldn’t imagine Lance was quick in the shower. He _should_ just leave.

       Keith found himself sitting down on Lance’s bed instead. It squished under him as he settled in and he remembered the fit Lance had thrown making sure he got the ‘best’ bed. It was too soft. Keith laid back on it and sighed. Lance was going to take forever and he was just waiting around. He should definitely leave.

       Ten minutes later Lance burst out of the washroom, still steaming from the shower. Keith had to admit he was surprised how quick he’d been. He thought he’d have another twenty minutes to tell himself it was stupid that he was still here (and do nothing about it). Yet again, it just went to show he really _couldn’t_ predict Lance. He also hadn’t predicted that he would still be shirtless. He shot back up to sitting and their eyes caught.

       There was a frozen second as Lance looked like he was considering finding a new shirt, but he abandoned the idea quickly. He seemed just as surprised as Keith was that he was still here. He still seemed worried Keith would take the opportunity to bolt if he wasted any time getting a shirt. Either that or he realized that all that time on the training deck wasn’t hurting his figure.

       Keith wasn’t sure how he’d missed how broad his shoulders were, but as soon as Lance was within groping range, his hands were running over them curiously. He felt a lot more… solid than he had back when they’d first started, when he’d cradled him in his arms thinking he was going to die their second day out in space. Keith’s fingers traced up to his neck then fell down his chest without a thought. He felt a lot less fragile now. He’d make for a much better… teammate now. A comrade. A battle buddy. Yes, that was certainly why Keith was enjoying the feel of his physique under his hands. Why he was enjoying the tongue that he welcomed past his lips after just a few moments of heated kissing was less easy to sort out. He’d just have to file that one away for figuring out later.

       Lance was nearly on top of him, only half on the bed to get more leverage in their kiss. He always had to keep himself the taller one as they made out. Keith didn’t mind. He made it worth his while at least. Lance was, to Keith’s surprise, not all talk on the talented tongue front. He thought he held his own, of course, giving as good as he got. Lance hadn’t complained yet, at least.

       They parted for a moment and Keith took a deep breath. There was a consistent question that kept itching at the back of his mind, and it seemed to stick out more tonight than before. It had all been impulsive make out sessions so far. He wasn’t sure why it felt so different to have waited, expecting it this time, but it did. When Lance shifted to lean back in, Keith stopped him.

        “This isn’t too… gay for you?” Keith asked. He hadn’t really thought he was Lance’s type, to say the least, but, well, this kept happening.

        “Eh,” Lance replied with a careless shrug.

        “‘Eh’?” Keith echoed back, a tick of irritation in his voice. Excuse him, _‘EH’???_

        “Why do you think I care?” he asked.

        “Oh I don’t know, maybe because you only ever hit on girls,” Keith retorted, annoyed that Lance would even pretend that wasn’t a thing.

        “Look, Keith, it’s _space_. They’re _aliens._ And Pidge keeps telling me the gender binary isn’t real anyway. When I hit on them I don’t really know what sort of alien junk I’d run into anyway. I’m just hitting on the pretty ones. It’s not like we know they’re ‘girls’,” he said, arms pulling off Keith to do dramatic air quotes.

        “So, you don’t care that we’re both guys,” Keith clarified, still feeling doubtful. He didn’t seem that open minded and he couldn’t fully shake the notion of ‘straight’ Lance.

        “Look, it just seems silly to worry if you have a dick or not when last week I was trying to score with something that might have had tentacles, or reproduced by spores or something, you know?” Lance said with a shrug.

        “So, that suddenly makes you gay?” Keith said flatly.

        “Nooooo, it means I was always just into pretty people,” Lance clarified. “And, ya know, if I squint hard enough and pretend you don’t have a mullet, sometimes you’re OK looking,” he said as if that were a compliment. Keith knew he knew it wasn’t. Lance probably knew he knew he knew. It didn’t matter, he just smirked that stupid smarmy smile. The only retaliation Keith could think of was to kiss the damn thing off him.

       He yanked him forward by the back of the neck and Lance squeaked. That put a little bit of a triumphant smile on his lips as he pressed them roughly to Lances. He’d let the blue paladin take the lead for most of their make out sessions. It’d always been him starting them so Keith just went with it. This time his goal was ‘kissing the smirk off Lance’, though, and that required some assertiveness.

       Keith flipped Lance over with the hand still on his shoulder and pushed him into the mattress.

        “Holy Hell Keith!” Lance yelped, but before he could start off on anything Keith swooped in after him and smashed their lips right back together. It wasn’t pretty but it shut him up. Keith dropped his forearm next to Lances head and for once Lance let him keep the advantage. He just reached up and grabbed Keith and held on. Keith found he really enjoyed having Lance under him, a hand in his hair, the other gripping his forearm, grasping him like he’d fall if he let go. The fingers twisted and tugged at his hair and he really was glad for that bit of extra length now. Every time he nipped on his lip or pushed his tongue back into his mouth, those fingers tightened.

       Whatever Lance was, it wasn’t entirely straight. And whatever this was, well, it was good enough for now.


	2. Too Comfortable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith doesn’t know what galaxy they’re in and Lance defends his honor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! This is by far the biggest response I've ever gotten to a fic!  
> Thank you all for the Kudos, bookmarks, and comments (I'm always a slut for comments)!  
> I hope you all like the rest of it too~  
> ♥♥♥

     Keith stared at the ceiling and felt oddly at peace, and that’s what felt so off. It wasn’t that he’d never been comfortable on his own. There was a niceness to the shack away from society, and it had never felt wrong. In fact, it had felt like he was _supposed_ to be there, but that was still a tense feeling. This, right here, a little too warm on a slightly too soft bed, this was peaceful.

     Maybe that’s what put him on edge, not being on edge. He was getting too complacent in his role of lounging around with the other paladin after they’d ended up back at Lance’s room to make out and feel each other up. He shouldn’t question it. It was just the best option while floating around in space, with only 4 other humans (only two of them remotely datable and Lance was not either). This was just easier than figuring out what to really do. And yet…

      “Are we just doing this because it’s convenient?” he found himself asking the ceiling, his thoughts vocalizing without his consent. Lance was sitting, stretching forward over his knees. Keith resisted the urge, when he looked down from the ceiling, to push his hand over the bare expanse of back and help him work out the knots. Lance glanced back over his shoulder for a moment but his eyes darted away as soon as Keith’s met his. It took him a long moment to speak.

      “I don’t know man,” Lance said, his tone surprisingly sedated. “Yeah, probably.” It didn’t feel like a real answer to Keith. It was so somber and mumbly, which was particularly weird after how handsy he’d been. Usually Lance was raring to go off on some wholly inappropriate banter about now.

      “We’re out in space, stressed out, running in and out of battles and missions, and you strike out with every half-decent looking alien you see,” Keith started listing out the facts of their situation. He was surprised to hear the chirp of anger from Lance, though, he almost caught his words before Lance did this time. He was getting better. Maybe one of these days he _wouldn’t_ offend Lance’s pride by accident.

      “I do not just ‘strike out’ with every alien I find,” Lance protested. “If that one hadn’t been working for Galra she totally would have been into me! And if we didn’t have to evacuate that ship a few weeks ago! That feathery one was all over me!”

      “Fine!” Keith said in a hard clipped tone. This wasn’t the conversation he meant to have. “What I meant—,” he tried to clarify and take away the offense, his own irritation rising, but Lance just soldiered on in the conversation without him, as he always did.

      “And anyways, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve thought about you and me,” Lance said.

     Keith’s words died on his lips and he gave Lance a hard look pushing up to sit. “What?”

      “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Lance said, waving widely. He used hand gestures a lot and they seemed to distract others from the moronicness of his words, but it didn’t work on Keith. “I mean, you were like my rival—yeees, I know you don’t remember it like that, but you _were_ and you probably _should_ have been worried about me before you dropped out back then because look at me now! Totally a better pilot than you,” he informed.

      “What galaxy are you living in where you’re a better pilot?” Keith asked, seriously.

      “I don’t KNOW Keith! What galaxy _are_ we living in right now?” Lance asked dramatically throwing up his arms. Keith had to pause.

      “I… don’t know.” He’d have to ask the computer, or Allura, or Pidge, or Shiro. Yeah, Shiro would definitely know. Hell, even Hunk probably knew. He really should be better informed.

      “Exactly,” Lance said, “So, anyway, we’re rivals and so sooometimes I might have sort of thought-they were daydreams, not even really thoughts. You know, it’s class and your mind wanders off while Professor Montgomery rattles on about boring things?”

      “I liked Professor Montgomery’s lectures…” Keith mumbled to himself.

      “You would,” Lance said dryly as if there were some horrible character flaw, to be interested in Abnormal Emergency Flight Procedures. “Anyway! So, I might have, once or twice, staring at the back of your mullet, daydreamed about finally outranking you, crushing your score in the simulator and finding you to rub it in your face and, I don’t know, you’d like suck my dick or something.”

     Keith choked.

      “What?!”

      “What?” Lance looked back at him as if nothing were amiss with that.

      “I’d just suck your dick? Why, because you did well in the simulator?” Keith didn’t follow this daydream’s logic.

      “Because I _beat_ your score in the simulator. Daydream Keith was super impressed,” Lance informed solidly.

      “So I sucked your dick?” he asked.

      “Look, to be fair, most of my daydreams end with someone sucking my dick. I’m just informing you that you had, in fact, previous to running off into the desert like a crazy person, been the star of one or two of said dick sucking fantasies,” Lance said in the almost sing songy ‘explaining’ voice he used when he was trying to convince everyone something incredibly stupid was totally normal.

     Keith stared. He honestly didn’t know where to put this information. He gave up and fell back into the bed. “So, do you beat me in the training rooms now?” he asked without thinking, or maybe it was because he _was_ thinking, about Lance thinking about _him_ , about Lance daydreaming about him.

      “Huh?”

      “Like, in your daydreams now,” he said, sort of falling into a mumble, but it was too late to take back the question now.

      “Oh. No,” Lance retorted with a derisive snort and Keith was… oddly bothered by that. He wasn’t worth fantasizing about anymore? He only had a moment to contemplate that before Lance went on, “It’s more, I save your ass in a battle and you swoon in my arms as I bring you back in my lion.”

      “I swoon?” Keith asked skeptically, back up on elbows, a scowl starting to set in on his face. Lance grinned, because he’s a jerk.

      “Yep,” he said.

      “Where’s _my_ lion in this fantasy?” he asked, possibly most irritated that he’s left defenseless in Lance’s daydreams.

      “You didn’t bring it. I don’t know. Man, it’s a daydream, stuff doesn’t have to be all planned out and make sensey,” Lance argued with a pout. Keith hated that half the reason he argued with Lance anymore (outside of during missions because those arguments were serious business) was to see that pout. He was just so upset. It was cute.

      “I suppose they don’t really make sense, like my sucking your dick because you did OK at training,” he agreed. Lances daydreams really needed better thought out plots.

      “No way, that’s totally realistic,” Lance insisted whipping around and pointing a finger at his face. “You are totally going to be impressed and humbled and all over my dick when I beat your ass in the training room one of these days.” He was so sure of himself. Keith raised both his eye brows. “Oh, yeah, you just wait!” Lance said with a smug smile. Keith wanted to argue, but he knew there was no point. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and sighed, patting Lance’s shoulder.

      “I’m leaving,” he said, pushing up off Lance. He didn’t really want to go, but it was starting to feel like he should. He hadn’t really gotten an answer, but he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to, or maybe that there just wasn’t one at all.

 


	3. Did I Ever Have a Choice in the Matter?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was it fate or did I decide to let my cereal get soggy?

 

       It was hard for Keith to decide how much of any of this was actually his choice. He wasn’t exactly a ‘fate’ guy, but he did trust his instincts and there did seem to be something grander going on with all this. He’d dropped out of school and ended up in the middle of nowhere making a board which, Lance liked to remind him, looked full on conspiracy theory crazy. It wasn’t, of course, because he’d been right, but it made him wonder. Sure, he did a lot of research. He’d spent his time studying and training, but all the real discoveries? The wall carvings, the readings, the crash landing? They were just coincidence. They were him following his gut. But were those instincts or was it something more? 

       He still couldn’t quite decipher from Allura how truly exclusive the lions were. Out of the five of them, sure, each lion had had a clear preference for one, but out of the entire galaxy? What were the odds that any random set of five people would have worked just as well? Allura just cut him off with an assurance that no one was going to walk up and steal his lion, but that wasn’t the point. Allura didn’t understand his real question. Admittedly, he didn’t know how to word it. 

       Was this fate, or was it just happening? Was he following his instincts, or was something leading him and he just didn’t notice? Where they meant to be here, all of them together, or did the lions need pilots and they were good enough? 

       His train of thought didn’t start out being about Lance but, as he always seemed to be recently, there he was right at the peak of his existential crisis. Maybe it was his own fault for having it while he was halfway through some crunchy dried goop bits in, well, probably goop juice (he was getting used to the goop food, sort of). 

        “Your goopios are getting soggy,” Lance commented as he walked by. 

        “Goopios?” Keith asked, more on instinct than anything. 

        “Yeah, like Cherios,” Lance said with a proud grin. Keith looked down at the bits of now rehydrated goop, slowly taking over his bowl. 

        “They’re not even round…” he commented, to himself. Lance puffed up all the same. 

        “They don't have to be round, it was just a cereal joke!” he snapped defensively. “Whatever, it’s more like… goopmeal now anyway.” Keith stared at him. He hadn’t quite made it all the way back to the here and now, the autonomous Keith not worrying about being strung along by fate.  Unfortunately, he was staring right at Lance, though, and that got a reaction. 

        “It was a joke Keith! OATmeal. GOOPmeal. It’s all… oatmeal looking!” He was shouting about the comedic value of ‘goopmeal’ by the time Keith had the presence and clarity to get his thought out. 

        “Do you believe in destiny?” he asked. Lance’s rant stopped in its tracks. 

        “Huh?” he stared. 

        “Fate or destiny or something like that,” Keith asked. Lance was so thrown off he almost didn’t remember to reply in an overly cocky manner. Almost. 

        “I’m more of a make my own destiny sort of man,” Lance said pulling himself into his most dashing pose (which was only entirely ruined by the spoon half full of pudding like left overs in his hand). 

        “So… you think all this just happened? We all just happened to run into each other and happened to be perfectly suited to the lions?” Keith asked. He wasn’t trying to convince Lance otherwise, he just really wanted to know. Lance’s eyes fluttered. 

        “Uh…” he hadn’t been prepared for this intense line of questioning on his way to get a snack. “Yeah. I mean… it was lucky, right? I mean, if I hadn’t been there none of you would have even gotten INTO the blue lion, let alone to the castle. Good thing a pilot like me was there to help you guys out. But then again now I’m stuck on a ship for who knows how long with YOU so I don’t know how lucky I could really be,” he said waving his spoon accusingly at Keith. Keith would realize belatedly that he was trying to insult him at the end there, but he was stuck on the bit before that. 

        “Yeah, I guess you’re right. If it was somehow preplanned the lion would have made sure it’d gotten a better pilot,” Keith agreed, nodding. That really was a good point. Why would fate choose a bunch of kids when there were much more experienced pilots out there? Him and Shiro made sense but— 

        “Better pilot?!” Lance shouted, outraged. Keith blinked up at him. Shit. He hadn’t meant to start a fight. 

        “You’ve gotten a lot more competent since we started,” Keith assured, “I just-,” 

        “Competent? I’m a damn good pilot, pretty boy!” Lance shouted. Keith cringed. 

        “I meant-,” 

        “You want me to prove it! Come on!” he was raging, slapping his spoon down on the table. 

        “No-,” Keith tried. 

        “You and me! Right now! Let’s get out the Lions!” 

       Keith kept trying to interrupt him, but he kept challenging him. Keith shoved up from the table, annoyed. He wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise and Keith didn’t know how to deal with this. He never knew how to deal with Lance. He stalked around his chair and right up to him, forcing him back against the counter. He grabbed his collar and yanked him down. It shocked him enough so there was at least a  _moment_  of silence. Keith seized it with the first thing that popped into his head. 

        “You know sometimes I daydream about you sucking my dick too, Lance,” he growled out. Lance’s eyes widened. “It’s at moments like this when you WON’T. STOP. TALKING. And at least it would shut you up.” 

       There was a tense silence between them, Keith glaring, Lance not even breathing, his hands gripping the counter so tightly his knuckles were white. 

        “Holy hell, Keith,” he finally breathed out, when Keith didn’t leave his personal space. The next thing Keith knew, Lance’s fingers were in his hair, yanking him into a hard, demanding kiss. 

       So… if fate was really stringing them along, did it account for how gay Keith was and let Lance tag along to give him someone to make out with? Or was this just an added bonus? 

       Keith would figure it out sometime when Lance didn’t have a hand up his shirt…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **EDIT:** Okay!! Someone found the fanart! Thank you [Dumpsterdiva](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dumpsterdiva/pseuds/dumpsterdiva)!  
>  I totally was inspired by: **_[This Fanart](http://0-aredhel-0.tumblr.com/post/148713915856/wow-ok-keith-whatever)_** for this chapter. I had just written ch.2 and it was such a great follow up! I'd lost track of it by the time I went to actually post this fic, I'm so glad someone found it for it for me!
> 
> ~_~_~
> 
> After this the chapters are gonna get less episodic, so, be prepared!! It all spirals from here, hahaha.


	4. Snapple Facts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance does the Lance thing, Keith does the Keith thing, and lizards communicate by doing push ups.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the original scene I wrote for this fic actually. I don't really know how this happened; I was just drinking a snapple.

       It was too hot for Keith’s liking on this planet. That was saying something, too, since he had spent a year living without so much as a hand fan in a shack in the desert. He and Lance had been dropped off to do some casual recon, see if the planet was Galra controlled. He wished he hadn’t brought his jacket, but it was so damn hard to predict what Coran meant when he said the weather somewhere was pleasant. Altean’s had a very different concept of ‘pleasant’ as it turned out.

       The two of them were walking into a small market area, bustling with a variety of different shaped creatures. It was a lot easier to blend in when there were a lot of different body types around. They always got spotted in a second when a planet had a homogenous population. This wasn’t the busiest hub they’d been too, but it clearly got some intergalactic trade.

       Keith paused before they got into the main road. He peeled off his red jacket with a relieved sigh. A wind picked up just as he did and it felt amazing across his sweaty arms, sending a slight, pleasant shiver up his spine. He took a moment to just bask in the breeze, eyes closed, pretending the sun wasn’t going to start baking him again as soon as it came out from behind the clouds.

        “Keith!” Lance snarled, snapping Keith out of his pleasant little moment. His eyes jumped open and he turned to find Lance glaring at him. He didn’t know what to say, because he didn’t know what he’d done. “We have stuff to do,” Lance informed, as if Keith didn’t already know they were on a mission.

       He frowned as Lance pushed past him into the market. He tied his jacket around his waist with a sharp tug and followed after. He didn’t bother to ask. If Lance wasn’t going to explain then it was his own problem.

       They went on with their mission. Keith was glad at times like this to have Lance around, even if he’d never let him know that. Lance was talking up a storm with a local. He was laughing and making culturally appropriate jokes already and they’d only been on the planet an hour, tops. Keith couldn’t even figure out his human teammates’ jokes half the time, but here was Lance, master of small talk. It was honestly impressive.

       While Lance was doing his Lance thing, Keith did the Keith thing. He watched the streets, scanned for suspicious characters, searched for hints of Galra influence. He was security and he’d be damn good security so Lance could do all the mindless chattering part.

       A flash of purple caught his eyes and Keith tensed. He’d learned to associate anything glowing and purple with Galra pretty quickly. His eyes scanned the crowd discreetly to find where it’d come from. He saw a peek of it again and this time he spotted the source. It was a humanoid alien, a little taller than average, lean and muscular build. No bat ears. He wasn’t Galra, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t working for them. Keith tracked him from across the market, searching for what might have caused the purple flicker. He scanned over the alien carefully accessing, in case he had to pursue or fight him. He was fairly muscular and held himself like a trained fighter. It’d be a good fight, if it came to it, but Keith had the advantage of _being_ small. People tended to underestimate him, and he only needed a second’s advantage.

        “Will you stop checking out aliens and pay attention, _Keith_?” Lance nearly shouted, startling Keith out of his thoughts. His face twisted into an offended scowl. He didn’t know what to address first, the fact that he most certainly _was_ paying attention, or that he was NOT checking out aliens, or that it was entirely hypocritical for Lance of all people to lecture anyone on the subject.

       Lance was already a hand full of steps away by the time Keith got out a confused, “Really?!”

       Lance just kept going, chatting with the stand worker who was now leading them somewhere. Keith threw up his hands with an exasperated growl and followed.

       Keith looked back over the crowd as they moved on but the alien he’d been tracking was nowhere in sight. He tuned out the conversation again as he went back into bodyguard mode. As they walked, his irritation fizzled out a little as his mind came back to the comment. Keith hadn’t really thought about it before, but Lance hadn’t really been all that ‘flirtatious’ recently. Most likely, none of the aliens they’d run into had been ‘pretty’ enough for him. Still, it felt like it’d been a while since he’d heard one of Lance’s cheesy one liners. He hated to admit he almost, _almost_ , missed them.

 

 

       They were shown around the market by the stand worker and he pointed them towards the food section suddenly twice as animated, telling newcomers about the local cuisine. Keith wasn’t listening, he was just sweating. Lance, the lucky bastard, had worn shorts. Keith was stewing in his all black attire. He could feel the sweat dripping down the back of his neck and considered maybe Lance wasn’t entirely wrong about cutting it shorter.

       Keith pulled out a tie and gathered up his hair into a little ponytail to get it off his neck. He would have to get more explicit climate information next time they were doing an on planet mission. He pushed his bangs back out of his face and suddenly Lance was yelling again. Their tour guide had headed back to his stand leaving all the attention on Keith.

        “Cut it out!” he demanded.

        “Cut what out?” Keith snapped back. Maybe the heat was getting to him, but Lance was being more annoying than usual today.

        “What are you doing with your hair?” He demanded.

        “Putting it up. If you haven’t noticed, it’s hot,” Keith replied dryly. “I’m hot.”

        “Yeah! I noticed!” Lance grumbled with unnecessary rudeness. If he knew how hot it was, what was his problem? Keith sighed and wiped the sweat off his forehead. After a few moments pouting, Lance spoke again, “Let’s just get this mission done with…” he said, leading them into the food district.

       Lance was talking up stand owners again, and Keith tried to keep a watchful eye. It was so damn hot, though. His head was swimming a little. He was probably dehydrated. The light headache starting up in this temples agreed with his theory. He should probably get them to stop of one of these stands and get something. He was just turning to Lance to suggest so much when something was shoved at his chest.

        “Here,” Lance said, barely looking to make sure the drink made it into Keith’s hand before going back to his conversation. Keith blinked.

        “Thanks…” he said. Had lance known he was thirsty? Or was it just coincidence?

       The container made him think of a Snapple. He hadn’t had a Snapple since he was in grade school, but the cold heavy bottle and suction induced pop when he pulled off the cap took him back in an instant. It was oddly comforting in a way he wouldn’t have expected. He didn’t remember having any _particular_ affinity for the drink, but just anything feeling familiar was nice. It seemed silly, but he smiled a little looking down at the cap, expecting to find a fun fact like: “Lizards communicate by doing pushups” or “‘Arachibutlphobia’ is the fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth". Instead he just saw a drop of the drink on the cap. He ran his tongue over it to clean it off.

        “What the hell was that?” Lance choked. Keith stared, blinking in the wake of the new shouts. What had he done this time?

        “What was what, Lance?” Keith asked, a sigh ready to escape him already.

        “ _That_ ,” Lance almost squeaked. He was pointing at the cap.

        “There was some juice on it…” Keith mumbled, furrowing his brow and looking between the cap and an oddly flustered looking Lance. What was wrong with him today? He was sputtering something. Keith just looked between the drink and cap again and shrugged, taking a sip.

       It was thicker than he’d expected, a bit of watery liquid had settled to the top but then a more yogurty substance was under. It was almost saccharin sweet, just shy of being too much. He liked it much better than what they’d gotten last time they were on planet. Everything had been so salty and dry…

       The sweet stuff stuck to his lips. Lance had trailed off at some point, likely realizing Keith wasn’t listening. He was probably wearing a sulking sort of expression. Keith smiled to himself at the thought, the corners of his lips turning up just slightly. He licked his lips to get the drink off, and when that didn’t work, ran his thumb over them to wipe the stickiness off and then pulled it into his mouth.

       The thumb yanked out of his mouth with a wet sucking noise as his arm was yanked by the wrist. He was jarked around the corner.

        “Hey!” he protested, ready for a fight over whatever it was that Lance was getting all worked up about. His shoulder was shoved back, pushing him against the wall with more force than usual. Lance generally didn’t make their arguments this physical (Keith would always win then). Keith’s instincts jumped to life and he tensed, ready to disarm and neutralize Lance in a second. Lance was getting better against the gladiator, but he was still nowhere near Keith’s level, and if he needed to he could definitely get him into a lock until he calmed down.

       Instead of having to deal with any of that, though, lips met his. He was even more confused than if Lance had just punched him. And when the hell did he get so used to kissing Lance that he just opened his mouth without thinking? The back of his head bumped the sandy stone of the buildings here as a tongue found its way into his mouth.

       All right, change of plan; adrenaline was going in a different direction. He could work with this. It was a little more public than he would like, but they were out of sight. There was no one else on this mission. He could do with some kissing. It’d at least shut Lance up for a bit. His hand was just lifting to snake around Lance’s neck when he was pushed away.

        “So, I get it, OK?” Lance was growling out. “Yes, I see you. So, can you STOP please?” Keith was at a loss. This entire interaction was going from confusing to straight up baffling.

        “Stop _what_?” Keith snapped, fed up with being in the dark. He shoved Lance away, “First you’re yelling at me for taking off my jacket. Then for, I don’t know, _having hair_. Then you’re all upset that I was DRINKING a drink YOU got for me. THEN you were kissing me. _NOW_ I’m being yelled at again. What is wrong with you today?!” Keith exploded, frustration of the entire day bubbling over.

        “Hoooly fuck! Was that all actually unintentional?” Lance blurted, his anger doing a 180 to wonder.

        “Was WHAT?!” Keith roared back. Okay, maybe he’d circled back around to thinking about hitting Lance. That sounded good about now.

        “No wonder I day dreamed about you in class. You are some sort of walking innuendo,” Lance said, in quiet reverence more to himself than Keith. It made him even madder that he wasn’t just telling him what he meant. Keith glared and barely knew how to find the words.

        “I don’t know what you’re talking about, goddamnit,” he said in a tight voice.

        “I thought you were trying to seduce me all day,” Lance said matter of factly. Keith stared, incredulous, and Lance started to laugh, “Oh man! That’s great! No wonder you were so flustered when that Riizean babe was all over you. You probably like… pantomimed eating her out without even knowing it,” Lance was tearing up now, wiping at the corner of his eyes. Keith was entirely red. What had he done to make Lance think he was coming on to him? What had he done in front of that Riizean last week?

       Keith suddenly realized his personal space bubble was being invaded again. Lance was closer now than he had been when he thought Keith was actually trying to seduce him. “You know, you gotta be more careful. People are gonna get the wrong idea,” Lance warned, his voice dropping to a soft teasing tone. Keith ignored the shiver down his spine.

        “Like who? You?” Keith muttered, shoving Lance away. How many times had Lance thought he was coming on to him? His hand stayed on his chest even after he pushed him away. He should probably move that. Lance looked between the hand and Keith.

        “You know, you’re really bad about sending mixed signals…” Lance noted. Keith held his breath. Lance was moving in closer, slowly. Keith’s fingers were starting to betray him, curling into Lance’s shirt…

       A flash of purple.

       Keith shoved Lance back full force just as a crackle of energy zapped between them. He hissed as his right arm was nicked by the shot, enough to blister a small patch of skin. Lance fell back and rolled up onto his feet in a crouch. Keith might have been impressed if he wasn’t so busy locating the origin of the shot.

        “There!” He shouted, snatching up his Bayard with his left hand and whipping it out into a sword form. He motioned to the alien he’d seen earlier in the market. He was crouched down on a makeshift perch off the roof a little ways further down the alley.

       Lance’s weapon was out as well. He shot. The shooter ducked, but the blast was aimed for the sheet metal under his feet. Keith was already racing towards the enemy combatant, leaping onto discarded boxes to try to get up to him. The shooter’s perch snapped under his weight.

       Lance had brought the enemy down to him. Keith smirked and leapt at the alien, his sword disappearing to allow him to grapple the larger creature and pin him down.

       Keith landed on top of the alien, knees pinning his shoulders down with all his weight. His sword appeared again so he could bring it threateningly towards the creature pinned under him. The alien looked shocked at how easily it’d been taken down, wide eyed he stared up at Keith.

        “Who sent you?” Keith snapped out.

        Keith was ready for a lot of things, but as always, the world gave him the one thing he couldn’t be prepared for. The alien smirked, a green tongue peeking out to run over his lips. Keith reeled back, a flush breaking out over his entire face. The alien let out a sharp laugh and rolled, throwing Keith off balance. Shit.

       Keith tucked and rolled, hopping back onto his feet, but by then another shot had been fired. His eyes flicked up to see Lance standing over the now unconscious alien, a blaster mark singed through his shirt and into the chest plate underneath, and a trickle of green blood from where the butt of Keith’s gun had hit his temple.

       Keith stared. His blush really should be fading but it wasn’t. Lance had just saved his life and looked cool doing it. Lance turned to him with a foreign, serious look on his face and Keith’s heart stuttered. It was such an unfamiliar sight; serious Lance.

        “We should probably get Shiro and the others here to pick him up. He might be able to answer some questions,” Keith blurted, his words tripping over themselves.

       Lance blinked, then smirked, “Are you gonna swoon? I just saved your life,” he noted.

       Keith jumped up to a standing position and his face somehow got _redder_. “I saved your life first!” he reminded. “That shot would have definitely hit you, you know,” he said, defensively.

        “You’re right, come here,” Lance said making his way over, “Let me dramatically fall into your arms,” he said throwing himself towards Keith. Keith’s heart was pounding way harder than it should be after such a short battle. He shoved Lance out of his arms and turned around sharply.

        “HEY!” Lance shouted from the ground but Keith was already turning around and walking determinedly to find good reception. “This is Keith. Repeat: Keith. We need a pick up. Transmitting location. We have one possible enemy agent subdued and are ready for pick up.” He spoke sharply and clearly, trying to ignore his burning cheeks.

       Lance complained about his scuffed up knee, which Keith would remind him was his own fault for wearing shorts into a possible conflict zone. He didn’t try to... swoon again, though. Which Keith was nearly as thankful for as how quickly Shiro and Hunk arrived to pick them up.

 

 


	5. Fuzzy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like the static between radio stations.

       Keith was irritated. He just wanted to go to his room and think. Too much was happening in his head and he could feel it fogging up. Shiro and Hunk showed up in one of the castles shuttle to pick them up with their new prisoner. It wasn’t as fast as a lion, but far more discreet. By the time they reached the castle, Keith realized he hadn’t heard a word anyone had said on the way there.

        “Keith,” Shiro’s voice cut through the haze and his eyes shot up to their leader’s dutifully.

        “Oh come on!” Lance protested throwing his hands up dramatically, but Keith didn’t know what about. He just kept his eyes on Shiro, who frowned a little.

        “Were you injured badly?” Shiro asked. He’d already seen the wound on his arm. Keith frowned at the question.

        “No, not really,” he said, shifting the wound into clear view so Shiro could access it himself if he wanted. Shiro didn’t seem fully convinced.

        “Well, go see Coran and let the healing pod take care of that before you go to bed,” Shiro instructed. Keith nodded, feeling a little clearer already. It was nice to listen to Shiro’s instructions and just follow them. It made it easy to know what to do next. He trusted Shiro. He knew where he stood with Shiro.

 

       Lance had other plans for their post mission activities, though. While Hunk and Shiro lugged the still unconscious alien to a holding chamber, Lance grabbed Keith’s wrist to slow down his walk.

        “What?” Keith asked, frowning as Lance watched the other’s turn the corner. He smirked at Keith as soon as they were out of sight.

        “What?” Keith repeated, his brow furrowing seriously at the look Lance was giving him. He could feel the fuzziness coming back. Just looking at Lance made his mind feel cluttered. Lance tugged him in the opposite direction, towards his room. Keith snapped his wrist back to his side.

        “I’m going to the healing pod,” he informed resolutely. He wasn’t really injured bad enough to need it, but he needed to stick to his plan of action. More importantly, he needed some time to himself.

        “Were you hurt that bad?” Lance asked, seeming skeptical, but underneath that concern showed clearly on his face. Keith’s heart did that double take thing again and he took a step away from Lance. He really needed time to clear his head.

        “Yeah,” he lied, starting in the opposite direction.

        “Oh… okay,” Lance agreed in an oddly subdued voice. It sounded wrong on him. Keith ignored it. He had too much to figure out as it was. He went straight to the healing pods, then to his room after the five minutes it took to patch up his arm. He was hungry, but he didn’t want to risk running into people in the kitchen. When he got to his room he face planted into his bed.

       It felt too hard…

 

~*~*~

 

       Usually Keith was ready for any and all training exercises. Today they were using the mind linking helmets to practice forming Voltron without actually getting in their lions. Keith wished they’d picked any other day to do it, though. He’d woken up the day after the mission feeling as fuzzy headed as when he went to bed (Pidge would be disappointed to hear that turning himself off and on again didn’t work as well with humans).

       The situation was made worse by the fact that Lance was blatantly digging around in his brain. The open connection between the Voltron pilots formed by the helmets didn’t really let you read minds. It shared current surface thoughts and deeper general sentiments. At least, that’s how it worked when the five of them were all dividing up their attention to form a balanced connection. Lance had decided to distract the whole group diving them all into Keith’s head.

       It was an odd thing to, in some shadowy way, see his mind from the outside looking in. Honestly, it was making Keith a little nauseous. He felt Lance feel him thinking about Voltron. Then he felt Lance feel him feel Lance feel him think about Voltron. Then it was deeper. Then it was his foggy cluttered feelings being dredged up, jumbled and uncomfortable.

        “Lance,” Keith growled lowly.

        “What? You always come in here all focused! You’re all brain tense today I’m just—,” Keith didn’t need to open his eyes to know Lance was making wild arm gestures, “-trying to figure out why because I’m a good teammate, and at least _I’m_ ready to form Voltron.” Keith could feel his own indignation rise through the others, echoing back at him. It was like waves as it traveled through the group and then back to him over and over. He was about to snap.

        “Lance,” Shiro’s voice was a dragged out warning tone, stern and steady. Thank god for Shiro’s good sense. Keith could instantly feel his tension ease. If he could just listen to Shiro’s voice all day he’d get through any amount of stress. It was always like that. It was probably why he’d ended up in that desert; every fiber in his being needed to get Shiro back because he was important. He was _really_ important to the academy, to Voltron, to Keith.

       Keith suddenly felt the echo back of his emotions, and Lance _really_ needed to step off. He could hardly focus on being angry, though, as he was forced into the out of body experience that was seeing his own feelings thrown back at himself. Most notably, his own feelings about Shiro. Embarrassment shot through him and hit him again in a painful second wave. Something else was coming plainly off Lance, but Keith couldn’t take the time to identify anything outside of himself in that moment. He felt like he was spiraling. He felt--

        “LANCE,” Shiro snapped sharply and the attention widened back to surface level. He could only vaguely feel the guilt from Lance now. It didn’t matter after that, though, because the group connection popped and everyone was alone in their own heads. Keith’s helmet was off and he was on his feet. He wanted to yell at Lance, but he looked up to see three pairs of eyes on him, two confused, one concerned, and a forth pair averted. He wondered how obvious it was to anyone who, well, wasn’t himself. It didn’t matter.

       He turned around without a word and started out of the room, snapping up his jacket as he went by. He got at least a little satisfaction when it whipped through the air in a sharp snap as he did.

 


	6. What's a Crush?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings are... difficult.

       It was only about half an hour before Shiro found him. Maybe he should have gone somewhere less obvious than the training room, but he needed to hit something. He needed to be moving and not thinking. Fighting, for him, was based on instincts. He knew it wasn’t the same for all the paladins. Pidge and Shiro had the tendency to get caught up in their heads when they fought. For him it was just reaction. He could clear his thoughts.

       His mind was focused on the gladiator, shutting out every other stray thought. He’d set the gladiator intentionally higher than he knew he could beat. A downhill battle was the best sort to keep him occupied. The battle was barely getting into full swing, but he could feel his footing getting away from him. His mind told him to go into a defensive stance, to shift the tempo of the battle, but he felt his sword crashing down against the staff again and again and it was damn near the most satisfying thing he’d ever felt. Controlling the shock back, forcing the blade forward. His footing was shit, he was about to be pushed over. He had sacrificed his position for the hits. He knew all this, but he couldn’t stop.

       A hard push back from the gladiator threatened to topple him over, but instead his legs were swept out from under him and he went down fast, avoiding the staff that otherwise would have come after him. A pinkish purple glow swept over him as he fell and a form leapt past him. The fight was elegant and brutal, like Shiro’s fights always were. And Keith was left staring at a solid figure he knew all too well from the floor.

        “Keith,” Shiro said, before he’d even turned around. Keith was pushing himself up slowly but he jumped a little at his name.

        “Yes?” he said on instinct. He didn’t want to be so compliant. He really just wanted to leave.

        “You were losing your footing.”

       Relief washed over Keith. Training he could talk about. Training he knew.

        “Yeah…” he admitted. He let his bayard weapon disappear and took the hand offered to him as the glowing faded away. The others were wary of it still, but as soon as Shiro hadn’t been worried, neither was Keith. Shiro gave his hand a hard squeeze.

        “Are you alright?” he asked. Keith made the mistake of looking him in the eyes. He’d always liked his eyes, but they were hard to look at now. He was hyper aware of everything he felt, every twinge of affection. After seeing it all from the outside it seemed like so much more. When it came down to it, his eyes were dreamy. Keith needed to go back to hitting something.

        “My shoulder might be a little sore. It took the brunt of the fall,” Keith reported dutifully. Shiro let go of his hand with a sigh. Keith felt a rush of embarrassment. “Oh…”

        “I don’t exactly know what was going on between you and Lance today, if this is some new way for you two to fight, but let’s keep it out of the Voltron bonding exercises, alright?” Shiro asked, his voice had started out firm but trailed into something softer. He was concerned. Keith almost felt guilty that all he could think was, ‘oh thank god. I don’t think he noticed’. It was just repeating in his head until he looked up, and felt his face heating up.

        “I’m sorry. Lance was just--,” Keith started. Shiro cut him off.

        “I already had a talk with Lance,” he assured. That meant Lance was probably off pouting, or bitching how unfair this all was to Pidge and Hunk… loudly. Keith just nodded solidly. He’d be grown up about this if Lance would, and if anyone could make Lance act reasonably, it was Shiro.

        “So are we going to be good?” Shiro asked, his voice was hard, but his hand was gentle on Keith’s shoulder. Keith swallowed. He’d always had a little bit of a crush on Shiro, hadn’t he?

        “We’re good,” Keith agreed. It was probably more admiration than anything, and kinship with another pilot. Okay, it was a little Shiro being undeniably gorgeous. That didn’t help the situation. It was also how he just actually understood what Shiro was trying to say to him most of the time. People were generally pretty confusing to Keith, particularly people like Lance. Shiro was comfortable. He said what he meant and he took Keith’s actions at face value.

       It was probably just a little crush.

       Shiro smiled softly and smacked his hand on his shoulder, “Good.”

       Okay, no, it was a decent sized crush…. Maybe?

       Why was this all so much stranger after looking at his feelings from outside his head? Shouldn’t they be his feelings? Shouldn’t he understand them? Keith swallowed and nodded, putting on a small smile for Shiro that seemed to satisfy him. He couldn’t bother Shiro with all… this.

       He went back to hitting things.

 

~*~*~

 

       Keith avoided the main cafeteria on his way back to his room. He was sure he’d hear Lance’s indignant voice echoing down the halls around it, complaining about him. He took the long way around and came to his room from the opposite direction. He’d spent another hour in the ring fighting, after reassuring Shiro he wouldn’t get himself hurt. He had planned to flop back face first into bed. He should probably shower off the sweat, but that honestly sounded like too much effort.

       He nearly missed Lance slumped over on the floor until he was close enough to kick him (not that he was thinking about kicking him…). He jumped back and Lance stumbled up to his feet and straightened himself up, as if he hadn’t been distractedly playing with the rubber bit on the tip of his shoe that was starting to peel off.

        “Keith,” he said, his voice too high. He snapped his mouth shut and it was clear that hadn’t been how he’d practiced his greeting. Keith just grunted and tried to push past him.

        “Keith, come on buddy!” Lance whined when he was pushed away and Keith walked into his room. He followed him in and suddenly Keith was embarrassed. He’d been in Lance’s room plenty of times, but they’d never come back to his. His eyes shot around the small quarters. He wished he’d cleaned up. He didn’t know why he cared. He didn’t own many things, none of them really did, but still.

        “I’m tired, Lance,” Keith said in his best warning tone, he threw his jacket onto a chair with a _thwup_. He didn’t _want_ to start a fight, but damn it he was _ready_ to.

        “I bet! I’ve been waiting here for _hours_ ,” Lance exaggerated. It had been an hour and a half, at most. When Keith ignored him in favor of peeling off his sweat soaked shirt, Lance went on. “I get it! I shouldn’t have been routing around in your head!” Lance blurted, but he softened, “Alright, I was just trying to figure out why you were all distracted. You’re always so laser focused,” Lance said and Keith turned around just in time to see squinty eyes looking down a tunnel he made for himself with his hands on either side of his face. He straightened up, getting serious again. “So, I didn’t mean to upset you…” he muttered, but that was impressive for Lance. He didn’t really do apologies.

       Keith still didn’t know what to say, though, so he just continued getting ready for bed. He was still embarrassed and frustrated and annoyed. Worst of all, he was still confused.

        “So… that’s it. I guess that’s what I wanted to say. I’ll go then,” Lance said, hesitantly stepping back.

       Keith turned around and took in a very audible breath to say something. Nothing came out but Lance stopped all the same. There was silence. Keith realized he felt awful, and it was largely because of Lance, but he wanted Lance there with him because that would… help?

       Keith made an irritated grunt. Lance was the cause of his problems right now, probably most of the time. He reached over to Lance’s arm and pulled him away from the door. Lance looked like he was about to start talking, but, bless him, he saw Keith’s face and didn’t.

       Keith wanted him to stay. It only added to his annoyance, but he really did. He pulled him to his bed and sat them down. He shoved his head petulantly into Lance’s shoulder. Lance instinctively shifted so Keith could lean in better and his arm wrapped around his shoulders.

       They sat in silence, Keith’s face shoved into Lance’s chest, half turned, and hands on his lap. Lance had one arm around him, his hand reaching up and around to run over Keith’s hair. He was being really quite reserved. Usually Lance was a lot more handsy, especially after a fight. This wasn’t a usual fight, though. Just sitting here, pressed against Lance was actually… really nice. He felt less overwhelmed by everything. The clutter was slowly clearing out of his head.

       Keith could feel his consciousness waning, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Even if his torso was turned a bit uncomfortably, the rest was soothing enough to compensate. He’d intended to eventually sit back up, but after the training session he’d just been through it was probably too late the second he’d put his head down on Lance’s shoulder.

       Oh well…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else ever run into that? Because it's honestly the worst when the person you're upset with is the best person to help you feel better (especially when you're not very good with expressing yourself verbally, lol).
> 
> Thank you all for reading and commenting!  
> I love hearing your thoughts ♥♥♥~


	7. Oh. That’s what it is.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotcha. Right. Shoulda guessed that one, huh?

       Keith woke up slightly sore and oddly warm. Much odder, though, he woke up to the sound of light snoring. His legs were hanging off the side of his bed, but so were another pair. He knew what he would find when he looked up, but he was still surprised that Lance really was there. Keith was laid over his chest, tucked under his chin. A hand was twisted around to his hip to hold him there, pressed to Lance’s side. Laying there with Lance’s heartbeat in his ear he finally felt his thoughts were clear enough to really contemplate… all of this.

       He had no reason to particularly admire Lance. The guy was a goof and only occasionally a useful paladin. He wasn’t a particularly good fighter—okay, Keith had to concede he was improving after that last mission. He'd actually was pretty good as a pilot too, when he focused.... All the same, his reverence and respect for Shiro should be much more prominent to him. For some reason, though, looking up the nostrils of this rash, loudmouthed, gangly guy, he realized there was a difference. Lance was who he wanted to fall asleep leaning on. Lance was who he wanted to see when he woke up. Lance was who he wanted to kiss and to kiss him back. Shiro was gorgeous, and responsible, and perfect, and, yes, there was some sort of crush there, but he didn’t have a just on crush on Lance he… shit, he…

        “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Keith breathed over Lance’s chest. He pushed up and leaned over the doofus sleeping there.

       So, he might love Lance.

       He paused, looking down over him, the bit of drool and everything. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Lance’s. This wasn’t convenience. This wasn’t two horny teens in space (okay, it was that, but that wasn’t ALL it was). This was Keith finding someone he wanted to share his space with, share _himself_ with.

       Lance’s hand around his waist squeezed and his lips moved back without hesitation. It was slow and searching and really nothing their kisses had ever been before. They’d been rough, challenging, competitive, exploratory, but this was just soft. The hand slid from his hip to his back and held him there and Keith felt himself melt into the touch.

       Lance’s eyes cracked open finally and his mouth stilled. Keith pulled away, realization still fresh in his mind. It was reaffirmed when he saw Lance’s sleepy face, brow tugged together in light confusion.

       Yeah, he loved him.

        “Uh… good morning?” Lance eventually croaked out. He licked his lips and seemed still a little lost. That was okay. Keith pushed forward and kissed him again.

        “Oh. Alright,” Lance said into his mouth. He hesitated before he shifted and settled to kissing back. It was a little tense. Lance was just woken up, so that was fair enough.

       Having him here felt so right, Keith should have known this the whole time. He should have known since he was cradling him in his arms, hoping he didn’t die on their second day off planet and into this whole save the galaxy quest. He knew now, though, and that was what was important.

       Keith threw a leg over Lance, straddling him, never breaking the kiss. Lance squeaked and as Keith shifted back, and as he settled on top of him he realized the reason. Lance was sporting some morning wood and Keith had just run right into it. Keith thought on it for a moment before be lifted himself up and slide a hand down between them. It seemed an appropriate ‘thank you’ for how uncomfortable the night must have been for Lance. He’d been still dressed, half hanging off a bed much harder than he was used to, with Keith’s weight thrown over him. His fingers pushed between Lance’s shirt and the top of his jeans, running across the bit of skin there.

       Keith was suddenly on his back, flipped over with a hard shove, left blinking up at the ceiling. Lance was on his feet already, red right to the tips of his ears. “S-So! I’m starved! I bet Hunk is already making breakfast,” he burst nervously. He tugged his hoodie down sharply over where Keith's fingers has just been.

       Keith pushed himself up, a bit confused at being thrown down so early in the morning. He probably looked a mess, shirtless, sweaty from being pressed against another body all night, hair a mess from training and Lance’s fingers running through it as they fell asleep. Lance somehow became even redder.

        “Yeah! So! I’ll see you at breakfast,” he half shouted before turning around and power walking out of the room.

        “Okay…” Keith replied to a sliding shut door.

       He might have been a bit too forward. He hadn’t thought Lance would mind, given how much he initiated physical contact, not to mention all his talk about dick sucking daydreams and the like. Keith yawned and ran fingers through his hair. It was greasy and he still stunk of sweat. He’d have to shower before he headed out to breakfast.

 

***

 

       Lance wasn’t at breakfast by the time Keith got there. He’d apparently run in, stolen all of the bacon like substance that Hunk had procured on a recent on planet mission, and run off. Oh, and he took a slice of toast. Keith shrugged it off and ate the rest of the breakfast Hunk had made because even without bacon substitute, it was delicious. Thank god the lions, or fate or whatever it was out there, knew that this bunch of teenagers (and Shiro, who was surprisingly useless when it came to making anything taste more than adequate) needed a chef.

       The goop the ship offered sufficed, but Keith had missed more human food. He hadn’t thought he’d be the one to get homesick. The others all seemed so attached to their lives back on Earth, but Keith never had been. He’d dropped everything to live in the desert and excavate ruins and look at random readings he picked up. He’d thought Lance would have it the worst. He was a people person, had a loving tight knit family. They’d all had families they wanted to go back to right away. He’d had a shack. The rest of the paladins had all found things to make them calm and happy, though. Lance flirting around space, Hunk cooking with new ingredients, Pidge working with alien tech, and Shiro taking on his role as leader of the defenders of the galaxy. Keith… well Keith just had training.

       He had been surprised when he’d realized he missed earth, that the gnawing sadness in the back of his head had been homesickness. He hadn’t even really cared about it when he was there, it was weeks and weeks into space when it hit him. He’d cried. Hunk had brought back something that tasted just like eggs and a butter like substance that night and Keith had never been happier to eat ‘scrambled eggs’ in his life. He’d honest to god just sobbed over something he never would have thought he cared about.

       As it turned out, he was always a bit slow picking up his own feelings. Lance probably thought he was an idiot for taking so long. He’d tell him so too, and Keith would reply with something cheesy like ‘yeah but I’m your idiot’. Lance would have to accept that. It was schmaltzy enough to be one of _his_ lines.

       Keith smiled lightly to himself as he inhaled breakfast before going on a hunt for Lance. He didn’t even mind the confused glances Pidge and Hunk were giving each other when they thought he wasn’t looking.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be a little slow with the next update, depending on if my computer decides to keep being a shit or not. (ಥ◡ಥ)b


	8. Finding Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or namely not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. This chapter was one of the only ones I didn't have mostly written out ahead of time and I did NOT think it would be this hard to write! It also ended up a bit longer than I'd planned... So bear with me here!

Day one:

       Lance was harder to find than Keith had anticipated.

       Keith had never really thought about the fact that their ship was an entire castle. More importantly, it was _built_ like a castle, not a neat and organized ship. The Galra ship hadn’t been any better with its winding pathways and lack of markers. What was with these aliens and horribly impractical ship design? He only used direct pathways to get around and knew all the most necessary escape routes. He realized, after he’d exhausted all common rooms the paladins used, that there was a lot of the castle he didn’t know.

       This was a huge security risk. He couldn’t believe he had overlooked it. Luckily, combing the castle for Lance and memorizing all the odd hallways went hand in hand. Having created a solid mental map of the entire castle lessened the blow when he still hadn’t found Lance at the end of it.

       He’d done a pretty thorough sweep. Either Lance was mysteriously missing or there were areas of the castle he’d missed. Both possibilities bothered him. Coming back around to the dining hall he spotted Hunk.

        “Hunk, have you seen Lance?” he was surprised that he had to work to keep his voice calm. He hadn’t even noticed himself getting tense.

        “Uhm…” Hunk hesitated, staring as if caught in some horrible lie, but he hadn’t even said anything yet. Keith stared back, patiently waiting while Hunk remained frozen, spoon halfway to his mouth.

        “Okay! So!” He finally said, a good 10 seconds later, having gathered up his thoughts. Pidge interrupted, peaking around from in the kitchen.

        “Lance went out,” Pidge informed. “Told Hunk not to tell you.” Keith was not quite able to decide what to do with that information.

        “Was there a mission?” he finally asked. He didn’t remember there being anything planned.

        “Nope,” Pidge replied.

        “Pidge! Lance said not to say anything,” Hunk scolded.

        “Yeah he told YOU not to say anything. He didn’t say **_I_ ** couldn’t say anything,” Pidge reminded.

        “Yeah but—,” Hunk paused, hand to his chin, then finally started a succession of quick little nods, “Actually, you’re right. He pretty explicitly said, “Hunk, if Keith asks, you can’t tell him”. He didn’t say _you_ couldn’t,” Hunk said, accepting this loophole. Pidge nodded as well. They seemed pleased with themselves.

        “Why can’t I know he went out? What’s he doing,” Keith asked, trying to puzzle this together. He looked to Hunk for an answer, but Hunk gestures to Pidge, sticking to their loophole.

        “Said he was going out since we’re settling in here for a few days,” Pidge explained. Keith furrowed his brow. That didn’t sound like a very Lance thing to do on his own. He always dragged his feet when they were doing boring routine patrols. That he would volunteer for it was odd, but what was even odder…

        “So, why couldn’t I know about that?” Keith asked. Hunk and Pidge looked to each other and then Keith.

        “Yeah, why _couldn’t_ you know about it?” Pidge asked, leaning further into the room. Hunk seemed just as eager to know. They were both eyeing him with such curiosity he wished he had something for them.

        “I… don’t know,” Keith admitted with an awkward shrug. Hunk pouted and Pidge groaned. They’d clearly been dying for an explanation. There was a pause as all three of them were collectively disappointed.

        “I guess I’ll go train for a bit,” he said, though his muscles protested the thought after yesterday. He knew he’d have to set the training bot on low. He wondered if Lance was planning something. Maybe he thought Keith was still upset and was doing something nice for him. Keith might have been getting a little ahead of himself, but he couldn’t think of any other reason for the secrecy.

        “Hey wait! Do you want to… talk?” Hunk interrupted his thoughts. His eyes jumped back to the yellow paladin, confused.

        “Huh?” Keith hesitated. Hunk looked sincerely concerned. Pidge seemed to echo the sentiment, though a bit more discreetly. “No,” Keith assured. “I’m good,” he added as he started out. He supposed he couldn’t blame them for not knowing he’d sorted things out. Last they’d seen was Lance and him fighting and that garbled mess that was his thoughts yesterday. His feelings were so crisp and clear now, it was hard to imagine it was ever so foggy. He put on a smile for the two other paladins.

       Keith would just have to wait it out to see Lance. That was okay, though. He’d see him soon enough. What was another few hours?

 

       It was more than a couple hours.

       Keith waited up for Lance to get back. He kept an ear on the intercom, wandered by the docking entrance periodically. He had decided he was going to play this cool. He’d casually be in the area when he got in, and, oh what a coincidence. It felt like a very Lance thing to do, but, hey, not all of Lance’s ideas were horrible. The problem was, Lance didn’t every come up the Lion’s docking bay. Not after an hour, or two, or four. Keith was getting worried.

       It was evening when he felt the need to ask Allura if they needed to go rescue him.

        “Rescue Lance?” she asked with a frown, “Lance has been back for hours.” Keith stared. “I saw him drop off the shuttle in the docking bay earlier.”

       Keith cursed internally. He’d assumed Lance had gone out in his Lion. He hadn’t thought he’d sneak out in one of the Castle’s ships.

        “I think he went to bed, actually…” she noted. It was a rather early turn in, even for Lance and his beauty sleep. “Well, we’ll have the ship make him something to boost his immune system, just in case,” she added, noticing the concern in Keith’s eyes. Keith nodded and headed to bed himself with a sigh.

       He’d catch Lance tomorrow.

 

Day Two:

       The day didn’t start out promising for mission: ‘Catching Lance’. He’d gotten up and found that Lance had already gone out that morning (he didn’t think Lance could even get up that early, to be honest). This time he didn’t wait the whole day to find out where he was, though.

 

        “Shiro,” Keith said, bursting into Shiro’s room.

        “Keith,” Shiro’s tone was lightly scolding. Keith stopped, waiting for the reprimand. Shiro must have noticed how anxious he seemed, because he explained without waiting for Keith to figure it out himself, “Knocking,” he said then added, “What do you need?”

       Keith nodded at the instruction. Luckily Shiro accepted that.

        “I was just wondering how long Lance is going to be out,” he explained. Shiro raised an eyebrow, which was fair enough so he explained, “I’m concerned about us doing so many solo missions. If our attacker from the last mission is working with Galra, then they might know we’re in this quadrant.” It was only a half lie.

        “He’s not alone, Coran went with him. Or… Lance went with Coran,” Shiro noted, “I didn’t think he’d volunteer to go on a resupply mission, but he does always find something Coran forgot.”

        “Shopping,” Keith repeated, thoughtfully. Maybe he really _was_ up to something after all. He’d been pretty quick to run off that morning.

        “Is something bothering you?” Shiro asked.

       Why did people keep asking him that?

        “Oh, no, I’m much better today,” Keith assured, giving a dutiful nod. “Thanks,” he said, heading out.

 

 

       Coran and Lance took almost the full day to pick up supplies.

       Keith found himself pacing around the castle the whole time. He was starting to really get the feel for the halls. By the time there was finally the telltale docking alarm, Keith could have run a good portion of the castle blindfolded (which would be good in case they ever lost lighting or Keith needed a surprise advantage over intruders. He was honestly pretty excited about that).

       Keith rushed to meet Coran and Lance, skidding to a hault just before the turn. He stopped, caught his breath and smoothed out his jacket, remembering he was ‘playing it cool’. He stepped around the corner to see Coran, a month’s worth of supplies, and Lance’s back before he dodged around a corner.

        “La—,” Keith started to shout but at the same time Coran spotted him.

        “Ah! Perfect, here!” the man said in a bright tone. He threw a crate at Keith with ease, seeming to expect him to catch it with similar ease. Keith felt the air knocked out of him and scrambled to grasp the bottom and stay standing up at the same time. Keith had almost forgotten how _strong_ Alteans were.

        “That’s for the kitchen, and get Hunk and Shiro when you come back,” Coran instructed.

        “Wha---,” Keith gasped out, still recovering. He pulled in a hard breath before he tried to speak again, “What about Lance?” He asked. It came off sounding angrier than he intended. In his defense, he’d just taken a crate to the sternum.

        “Oh! He helped plenty already loading it all into the ship! He seemed to be in a hurry anyway,” Coran said, “Now go along. No getting out of chores. Go get the others,” he instructed shooing him along. Keith wanted to protest but, well, he could find Lance after the ship was unloaded.

 

       Keith should have known better. By the time Hunk, Pidge, Shiro and him had unloaded the supplies, Lance was already in his room again, sleeping.

 

Day Three:

       Keith tried waking up even earlier, to camp outside Lance’s door for him, but he’d been anticipated. Lance had already left. This time, at least, he knew Lance had to be on the ship (he’d checked the docking logs and Lions on his way over). So, he was on the hunt again.

       After the past two days, he knew all the odd nooks and crannies of the ship, and one thing became very clear: Lance was avoiding him. There was no other explanation. He must have been systematically changing his position to avoid Keith tracking him down.

       Lance was definitely up to something. It was possible he was planning something for him, but Keith was in no mood for it. If there was a surprise being set up, he was damn well going to ruin it.

 

Day Four:

       Keith is honestly impressed with Lance’s tactical evasion skills. He considers he might not give him as much credit as he deserves. He also considers punching him when he finds him.

 

Day Five:

        “Did you want to help with the interrogation?” Shiro had managed to catch Keith before he went hunting after dinner. Keith’s gut reaction was ‘no’, but after so many consecutive days of failure, maybe a change of pace would do him good.

        “Okay,” he nodded. Shiro looked relieved, but he didn’t say so much, so Keith didn’t question it.

 

       The alien who had attacked them could only be held for another few Altean days without some formal charge, according to intergalactic war laws. Of course, if they had any reason to suspect he was an enemy combatant, they could hold him indefinitely as a prisoner of war. Simple assault, though, required he be turned over to an appropriate authority to be charged in a local jurisdiction to his crime. Of course there were loopholes and certain aliens civilizations had gotten special cultural considerations, allowing for homeworld trials or legal rituals be considered. Coran was rattling these things off, but Keith didn’t feel like he really needed to know all that. He just needed to know if the guy had any useful information on the Galra.

       Shiro and Coran had apparently been trying to get the attacker to talk since he woke up the day before but hadn’t made any headway. Shiro realized a potential problem.

        “He thinks this is a trap,” Shiro informed as they neared the interrogation room. “Or, at least, it’s such a risk betraying the empire that he’s thinks it’s safer to assume it’s a trap.”

        “We haven’t even gotten his name!” Coran shouted, exasperated as they entered to viewing room, “I don’t know what’s been going on for the past 10,000 years but—,” He was interrupted by Allura.

        “Zarkon has been left, unchecked, allowed to spread fear over the galaxy, that’s what’s been going on for the past 10,000 years,” the princess said with a venom in her voice as she stepped back from the one-way mirror. “And we’ve been sleeping,” she said. Keith wasn’t sure if she meant that to Coran literally, or about all of them figuratively. She looked wound up tight, though, so Keith decided not to ask. His eyes caught the movement of Shiro’s hand reaching over to her shoulder. His instincts were to stop him. She _felt_ ready to snap, hands balled into a fist, posture rigid. The hand reached her and the tension eased. She took in a deep breath as he spoke.

        “We’ll get something out of him, today,” he promised. She released her breath and nodded. Apparently Shiro was a universal de-stressor.

 

       Keith was let take a crack at getting something out of him first.

        “He hasn’t been very talkative, so don’t worry. We’re just hoping to shake things up a little,” Shiro explained before ushering him to the door. He wasn’t sure why he was called in for this, but he thought it might just be a way to stop him from skulking around the castle obsessively (Pidge and Hunk had apparently complained). He was given a list of questions they needed answered on a little clipboard and some cups and a pitcher of water to take in with him.

       The moment he stepped into the room the alien perked up, or as much as he could while handcuffed to the table.

        “Ah! Finally a pretty face to see me,” he cooed. Keith nearly missed the words, he was still reading over the list of questions he was to ask. He furrowed his brow as he belatedly processed the words. “I’d been wondering if I’d just dreamed you up.”

       So, this was already weird. Keith set down the water and cups with a thud, but didn’t offer it to the alien. He glanced back down to the clipboard.

        “What’s your name?” he asked, monotone. The alien blinked his eyes, one set followed by a second, then a smile cracked across his face, showing a sharp, toothy grin.

        “Devenus Kelri,” he replied. “You can call me Kelri.”

       That was easy enough.

        “Are you working in tandem with the Galra Empire?” he asked, reading off the sheet rather than looking at Devenus.

        “Don’t I get a name too?” he asked.

        “Keith,” he replied without a thought.

        “Just Keith?” he asked.

        “Galra Empire,” he directed them back to the original question. He wasn’t here to talk. If they wanted someone to do all that small talk, they’d have found Lance (if they _could_ find Lance).

        “Long live the Empire,” he replied automatically. Keith’s eyes finally left the clipboard. The alien still wore the smile, but he was leaned back in his chair uncooperatively now.

        “Are you working with the Galra Empire?” he asked again.

        “Would the glorious empire have any use for a simple man like myself?”

        “I don’t know,” Keith replied bluntly. “Do they?” They met eyes, the alien’s were unflinching and almost as green as his blood. Keith glanced up for the scar on his forehead from the butt of Lance’s gun, but it was gone of course. They’d have put him into the healing pods.

       He moved on to the next question.

        “Why did you attack me?” he asked.

        “I didn’t attack you,” he stated then added. “Is your arm well, Keith?” Keith flinched at the use of his name. He shouldn’t have told it to him.

        “As fine as you,” he replied thinking on the healed forehead. The man chuckled and Keith didn’t ask. “You shot at me. Why?”

        “I shot at the other one,” Devenus clarified. Keith understood now how he might be less than cooperative.

        “Why did you attack us?” he modified his question.

        “Just him,” he insisted, “Though you leapt in admirably quickly to aid your boyfriend,” he conceded.

        “Why did you attack _Lance_ then?” he asked with an irritated sigh.

        “Well, you spent so long giving me eyes—you have lovely eyes by the way—while he ignored you; I assumed you were just _asking_ me to steal you away,” he replied smoothly.

        “Giving you eyes…” he repeated in a mutter to himself. “Ah, I noticed your gun,” he informed. Devenus’ smile broadened.

        “You _do_ have a keen eye,” he seemed excited by this, “You noticed me before my shot could land, too. You know, I could have taken your Lance if you hadn’t been so distracting.” He was sitting up straight now. He shouldn’t have given him that name either because a sharp irritation ran through him when he said it.

        “You might be able to beat Lance, but you couldn’t take me,” he informed solidly.

        “Mm,” Devenus pushed forward over the table as far as his restraints would let him. “But I would love to try,” he said, his tongue darted out like it had in the fight. Keith’s hand snapped over to the stack of cups and flipped the top one up. He filled out the glass and slid it over. Devenus raised an eyebrow.

        “You looked thirsty,” Keith stated dryly.

       Devenus leaned back, smirking, taking the cup. “So, do I get another chance at this Lance?” he was asking. There was pounding on the one-way mirror. Keith turned, completely ignoring the question.

        “Keith, come out here for a tick!” Coran’s voice popped up over the intercom. Keith nodded at the glass and headed out without another word.

        “Visit me again, Keith,” Devenus requested as he went.

       Coran bounced over to him, as soon as he was through the door. Shiro remained by the window, looking serious, one arm across his chest, lifting the other so he could keep a hand over his mouth.

        “He’s a Vimamoris!” Coran blurted as soon as the door closed, as if that should clear everything up.

        “A what?” Keith asked, frowning.

        “The Vimamor! They choose mates by rough-rowdy physical competition! Fashion DOES change over the millennia!” he said with a laugh. “I never saw one without armor before, I didn’t even recognize him for one!”

        “Okay… so?” Keith stared.

        “He was FLIRTING with you Keith,” Coran announced, patting Keith’s back rough enough that he had to take a step to balance himself out.

        “Why?” he blurted, not sure what else to say. He looked to Shiro at a loss.

       Shiro took in a deep breath, composing himself. He finally lowered his hand, his mouth trained into a thin line to keep his expression even. “So… Keith. Did he call Lance your boyfriend?”

       Oh… yeah he had.

        “Well of course,” Coran laughed, “What were we supposed to think they _weren’t_ boyfriends?” he asked merrily before he noticed how red Keith was.

       Keith slapped the clipboard down on the table.

        “I should go find Lance,” he blurted honestly, because he didn’t know what else to be but honest. He had to figure out what was going on because _apparently_ Coran and this random alien who only saw them for a few minutes together and probably the rest of the galaxy already thought they were dating! So he better go and—Keith didn’t know, kiss him? (probably kiss him. Maybe hit him. Was he part Vimamor? Wanting to kiss and punch Lance shouldn’t go together so often, probably).

       He burst out of the door and made a bee line to Lance’s room, only to find it already locked down for the night. He tried knocking anyway, even though he _knew_ the doors canceled out sound from the halls when the occupant went into sleep mode. He considered asking Pidge to override the computer and set off an alarm but…

       Keith rolled off the door after a good five minutes of knocking and slid down the wall next to it. He let out a sigh, then a huff, then a shout. It echoed down the hall and he barely cared if it made it all the way to the common room.

       It took him another five minutes but he finally stood himself up. When was the last time he’d gone five days without seeing Lance’s stupid face? Hell, since they ended up out in space he’d rarely gone even one day without seeing him…

       He trudge his way back to his room for the night.

 

Day Six:

       Keith was seeing Lance. And he was going to do it today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any of you who were wondering, Shiro was on the other side of that glass DYING during the interrogation. 
> 
> Also: I'd like to give a shout out to  
> [The_Good_Witch_of_Babble](http://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Good_Witch_of_Babble) for inspiring me to write that interrogation scene!  
> and [SSJGondorian](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SSJGondorian) for just getting me in the mood to _write_ (because I was struggling).
> 
> So, who's ready for a Lance Chapter???


	9. A Change in Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because sometimes you need another perspective.  
> (but mostly because this is just how I wrote this chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually the first thing I wrote that ended up in this fic, but I didn't realize until much later that I was going to be putting all this together, I just wanted to write some shit at 2 AM (which is why it's Lance's POV suddenly, but I kind of dig it now that I've come to terms with it). But then I drank a Snapple one day, and some dick sucking jokes got involved, and suddenly this was a STORY rather than a bunch of random incidents.

Day 6:

       It had been almost a week and Lance had managed to avoid Keith. That was _something_ at least to keep him sane for now. But Keith wasn’t making it easy on him. He felt like he was on a mission half the time because this was some super stealthy shit he was doing. He managed to duck out of rooms before Keith had a chance to confront him, sneak into the kitchen to get food (he had to eat a lot more goop than he liked), and avoid any and all possible group meetings that would involve the red paladin. It was getting more difficult though.

       It didn’t help that he was _pretty_ sure that Hunk had started to play interference on his escapes. There was only so many times he could believe Hunk had to tie his shoes right in front of the exit when Keith was nearing (and that was once. He only bought that one once. The guy wasn’t subtle). By day six, it seemed Pidge was even getting involved. He started finding doors locked leading to his usual sneaky escape routes and mysteriously changed passcodes. That had Pidge written all over it. Lance was already exhausted and now he was dealing with ‘Escaping Keith Level 2: Pidge and Hunk get involved’.

       This was getting ridiculous. He wondered if maybe he should have just not left his room at all this morning as he tried to override the computer yet again, assuring it he was indeed a paladin (look! He even had this weapon thingy! Come _on_ you stupid box of wires!). He should have stocked up and waited it out holed up in his room. That was definitely a normal response to all this, fuck Hunk if he said otherwise. He finally got the door to his room to open up. And while he was on the subject fuck Pidge’s computer savvy too and fu-

        “LANCE.”

       Lance’s heartrate skyrocketed. Adrenaline kicked in. Lance dropped the food and bolted into his room. He flung his whole body at the pad to close the door. It flashed red. It couldn’t close. There was something in the way, and it was a panting, wide eyed Keith.

        “LANCE,” Keith repeated at the exact same volume as he had when he was down the hall.

        “YES KEITH, I HEAR YOU!” Lance shouted back, mostly because he had no idea where else to put all this energy telling him to run now that he was trapped. Keith looked startled for a moment but then sighed, and a smile pulled over his lips. It was a tiny one, one of those that are only really noticeable because he was just wearing such a serious expression. It was the sort that made lance wonder if he smiled a lot more often than people gave him credit for, but he was just too subtle for his own good. But now was not the time to be musing over the micro expressions of Keith. Now was the time for escaping.

        “So… hi,” Keith said, his voice a normal volume now.

        “I have to go,” Lance replied instantly, hoping he’d just… move.

        “You dropped your food,” he stated not budging from the door. Well, no shit.

        “Yeah, well,” yeah well _what_ Lance? He cursed internally.

        “I’ll help you clean it up,” he said, turning around and leaning over to pick up the goop and silverware scattered in the hall. Lance wondered if he could vault over him and make a run for it, but then imagined Keith standing up as he tried and the chaos that would unfold (flailing limbs and painful collisions included). Plus, he wasn’t sure if he could straight up outrun Keith. He had longer legs but Keith was, well, Keith. How hadn’t they raced before? Lance’s mind was still leaping through topics when Keith spoke again.

        “Then we could go and get some new food together and talk.”

       Shit. Nope!

        “I just realized I’m not hungry,” he said. Maybe if he hit the screen harder it would close on Keith anyway (it seemed like that was how things worked in the lion; when he hit things with more urgency they seemed to work better). Before he could get more than a frantic tap or two in, Keith was standing. He pushed forward with a serious look in his eyes and crowded Lance. Unfortunately, Lance's instincts kicked in and rather than back away, like he should have, he stood his ground. He’d had too many fights with Keith, he was starting to get habitually defiant. Problem was, now he was face to face with the other paladin he’d been trying to avoid for the past 5 days.

        “Lance,” Keith growled like he was done playing nice. Well, Lance wasn’t playing to start. He’d decided that days ago.

        “I didn’t invite you into my room,” he informed. Keith’s jaw tightened the way it did before they ended up kissing, the way it did before _Lance_ would kiss _him_. He wouldn’t this time. He really, really wouldn’t start this up again. He was steeling himself when he found his lips pressed up against Keith’s anyway. There were fingers curled into his jacket, pulling him into Keith as Keith pressed forward into him.

       Lance’s hands shot up to grab the hands and tare them off his jacket. He shoved them back at him as he pushed away. Keith stumbled back.

        “WHa-!”

        “Don’t!” he snapped.

        “Why not?” Keith asked, and he looked so honestly confused, “Lance, can we just talk for a second?”

        “I was about to go eat,” Lance announced. Keith’s eyes widened.

        “You JUST said you weren’t hungry anymore,” he shot back, voice tight, barely keeping from shouting.

        “Well, now I am.”

        “You’re being stupid. I just want to talk to you,” Keith insisted.

        “We’re already doing that,” Lance said. He needed another week (or two… or three) before this. He just needed more _time_. Why couldn’t Keith just give him some **_time_**?

        “About **_us_** ,” Keith clarified with a sigh waiting just behind his words. But oh no! He didn’t get to be annoyed; _Lance_ got to be annoyed.

        “I don’t want to.” He was being childish, but whatever.

        “Why?” _Why???_

        “Because there isn’t anything to talk about.” He was trying so damn hard to be cool about this.

        “How is there nothing to talk about?” Keith asked, looking shocked and Lance just couldn’t help it anymore. He was ending this conversation.

        “Because you have a thing for Shiro!” he announced, because Keith didn’t get to pretend that wasn’t a thing after that whole fiasco (which Lance had been super cool about, by the way!).

       Keith's whole face turned a pinkish hue, “what does- I don't see how that's really relevant to us” he stammered.

        “That’s not relevant to _us_?” Lance shot back, Keith’s response snapping something inside of Lance that he hadn't realized had been tense and straining this whole time. The words came out of his mouth “but you'd drop me in a tick for him, right?”

       Keith turned as red as his Lion then. He looked struck, but he didn't have a response. His entire face contorted. He hesitated, because he was honest and fuck if Lance didn't hate that he couldn't just lie to him right in that moment.

        “You would,” he answered for him.

        “Stop being stupid,” Keith threw back when he finally found his voice.

        “You would.” Lance didn't want to argue this. He didn’t want to _think_ about this. But Keith wasn’t letting him just have some time. Instead he’d spent the last week hunting him down, not giving Lance a moment of peace to just get over it, so they could go back to being normal, healthy, argumentative teammate/rivals.

        “This isn’t what I want to talk about. Shiro isn’t-that doesn't matter,” Keith started to claim.

        “Yes it does!” Lance cut him off, “Yes it does because you would drop me like a sack of space potatoes for Shiro. He's SPACE DAD, Keith! He's like thirty!” before Keith could even open his mouth, anger shot through Lance and he spat out, “don't you dare correct me!” He didn't want to say any of this but he couldn’t stop the words rolling out of him now, “you'd drop me and it DOES matter because even if he'd never even want you—because he doesn't and won't and won't ever—it matters because that means I'm your lame replacement. Because Lance is easy and hits on anything that moves, right?!”

       He was shouting, when had he started shouting?

        “Well you’re right! So maybe I'll just go back to that—hitting on everything—because I’d stopped because I thought we maybe had a thing, you know?”

       He was crying. When had he started crying?

        “And that actually seemed really cool! You know? Because I thought we were really awesome as like – together, like being together! But I guess back up is all I’d be good for, so might as well keep it meaningless! There's plenty of people in space to be your meaningless make out buddy, and mine. So! …Let’s just both do that.”

       His throat felt dry and raw and he snuffled up a disgusting batch of mucus and probably looked like a goon doing it. But who was he trying to impress? Keith?! Fucking not anymore. He rubbed his eyes dry roughly with the back of his hand, then pushed it under his nose and gave his best glare, because he would intimidate through his tears, damn it.

       Keith was staring, just, wide eyed and horrified. After a long silence his hand lifted gingerly to reach towards Lance, but for the first time, possibly ever, Lance's reaction time was better. He smacked the hand away sharply and was happy that some of his gross teary snot probably got on Keith's hand. He almost smiled about it (but he didn’t).

       He stepped back while Keith was still staring at his shunned hand. He turn around and started power walking out. He felt sick. This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. Fuck. He felt like puking. He probably would if one more word came out of his mouth. So, he bolted right out of the room and slammed his hand on the close button, and just to be spiteful, he hit lock too. Keith had the code. He'd just have to hit a few buttons to free himself, but damn it, Lance was angry and that fucking helped.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I this chapter was gonna be longer, but then I was like: why not a cliffhanger?? ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿
> 
> But for real, it's mostly because it flips back in perspectives so it felt like it should be a new chapter. Hence there now being probably(??) 11 chapters total to this.


	10. Aftershock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Communication is key, and sometimes so is running into a door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT:** Whoops!! Just added one line in the seventh to last paragraph, lol.
> 
> ~*~*~
> 
> Sorry if the editing is lacking on this one, I've been babysitting my goddaughter all this week.  
> (She's adorable. She roars back at all the lions (and other large animals) during the Lion King and her favorite intro song to any movie is 'This is Halloween', hands down.)

       Keith stood there in shock. It took him almost a full minute before he rushed towards the door to go after Lance. He proceeded to smack face first into it when it didn’t automatically slide open. He cursed, hand on his face. His eyes were watering over and he knew it was going to be a bloody nose before he even felt the warm wetness drip over his hand. He punched in the numbers to unlock the door, hitting the panel far harder than the poor thing deserved. When the room released him, he snagged a rag up, pinching the bridge of his nose and was off.

       How had he messed up so badly!?

       He had finally figured himself out, what he was really feeling (and that was hard enough) and he had that whole revelation just in time to horribly fuck up his relationship with Lance. What the hell? What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he ever see these things coming? Why were people so difficult? Why was _Lance_ so difficult?!

       The image of tears welling up and tumbling down Lance’s cheeks was burned into his memory, though, and he couldn’t find it in him to be angry. Lance really _meant_ what he’d said at least, and so this all really had to mean something to him. Keith would fix it (hopefully).

       He’d been running through the halls for a good few minutes before he realized he had no idea where he was going. He didn’t actually know where Lance would go. He’d gotten all the way to the training block on instinct but that was what _he_ would do, not Lance. He stopped and turned around twice before starting towards the common room instead. He was halfway there when he saw the hall leading to the cafeteria. Lance would definitely eat his feelings, and there was still leftovers from that dessert Pidge and Hunk had made.

       Keith turned sharply and sprinted the rest of the way. He ran right through the dining hall and into the kitchen. No Lance. He was panting, face still stuffed into the rag. He probably looked absolutely insane, but he didn’t care.

       He turned around once, almost leaving, before he remembered the little attached room, which presumably had been for the chefs and servers to eat in. He burst into the mini dining area and there was Lance with a bowl of layered pudding and cake and his cheeks chipmunk full. His eyes were still red but he wasn’t _crying_ , thank god. Keith wasn’t sure he would have any idea what to do if he was still crying. He’d probably have panicked and his brain would have just stalled out like it had earlier.

        “LANCE!” Keith was already shouting through the rag before he could stop himself.

       Lance jumped to his feet. In a moment he went from angry, to shocked, then confused. He barely swallowed in time to sputter out, “What happened to your face!?”

        “I RAN INTO A DOOR.” Why was he still yelling? Lance was smirking instead of glaring though, so if running into a door helped, fine. Whatever. He’d take it.

        “Good,” Lance said solidly.

        “Sure,” Keith agreed easily. He pulled down the rag, so he could talk clearly. “Listen—”

        “Holy shit, your face!” Lance shouted again now that he really got a look it. Keith was sure it was a mess, the rag probably smeared blood around as much as it caught it, and he’d been running so he knew some had escaped. That didn’t matter though.

        “Yeah. That’s not important,” Keith stated matter of factly.

        “You’re _bleeding_. At least stop _bleeding_ ,” Lance insisted, looking stuck between angry and concerned.

        “Uhhhg! Lance shut up! I’m trying-”

        “Like it’s just getting everywhere! Do you even have another shirt? Thank god you only ever wear black, you emo asshole!” Lance was rambling, waving his hands (and a luckily empty spoon) around.

        “LANCE!” Keith shouted, exasperated. He was up in Lance’s personal space, trying to get him to stop gesticulating wildly. He threw the bloody rag on the table behind them and grabbed his wrist to still them. “Listen!” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry!” he shouted.

        “Don’t-!” Lance started but it was Keith’s turn to just keep talking.

        “No! I will, because I am! I had this whole thing figured out, and I realize I didn’t actually tell _YOU_ that I figured it out. So, now I’m telling you, which I guess I should have done before I kissed you a week ago and ten minutes ago” Keith informed seriously, Lance, for once, stayed quiet. “I would not dump you for Shiro.” Lance started to argue but Keith went on, talking right over him, “BECAUSE even though Shiro is handsome and collected and smart and all sorts of stuff that you’re not, he’s not what I want.”

        “Oh thanks Keith!” Lance shot back sarcastically, “That makes me feel a loooot better. I’m glad to know I’m not handsome or collected or smart.”

        “No! I mean. Arrg.” Keith let him go and took a few steps back. He could feel his face scrunch up in frustration and that hurt a little, but he was too engrossed in trying to figure out what to say to really care.

        “Just… stop bleeding first and then-,” Lance suggested in a mumble.

        “No! This is important! You ARE handsome, just not like, Shiro perfect body hot,” he tried again. Nope, that was still wrong. “Look, it doesn’t matter because I think you’re hotter, okay? And funny, I mean, sometimes, and caring, and you smell good.”

        “I smell good?” he cut in skeptically.

        “Yeah.” Keith nodded. Wait, that was weird to say wasn’t it? Lance seemed a little less tense though. He licked his lips and they tasted like blood, but he’d deal with that later. “So, look, Shiro is great and all, and I admire him a lot, but you’re awesome and I probably have… real feelings for you.” Okay. Okay he’d put that out there.

        “So… Shiro is in every way objectively better, but you like me,” Lance stated as clarification.

        “Yes!” Keith said then caught himself, “No!” he corrected quickly. “You know what I mean!” he insisted staring at the bloody rag on the table. Wow it was gross looking. His face must be just as gross…

        “No. I don’t. Explain,” Lance demanded. Keith’s eyes shot up taking in a hard breath, his chest tightening because, how could he get Lance to understand? But then he found Lance smiling, just a tiny almost imperceptible smile, and he relaxed. Oh, he was fishing for compliments.

        “Well,” Keith was willing to supply them right about now. “You’re pretty good looking,” Keith started, “Particularly right after a battle when you’re a bit tousled and sweaty. And you’re actually a pretty decent pilot, when you need to be. And getting to be a pretty amazing shot. You have really nice eyes. And that day I woke up next to you, I kind of wanted to do it every day after that. Even if I had a crick in my neck and you ran out on me…” He trailed off, losing his steam as it turned more specific. Lance stared, apparently not prepared for that level of candor. Good, Keith preferred him confused. He leaned in then, determined to kiss the shock right off his face but a hand shot up between them.

        “Wait.”

       Keith’s heart stopped.

       Oh. Oh, he probably didn’t feel the same. Right. That was something that could happen. Him not wanting to be Keith’s replacement didn’t mean he would prefer to be his boyfriend. Maybe he didn’t want to be his anything. Keith had stepped over that invisible line and made this all weird and Lance was reasonably freaked out. Keith was halfway to a self-loathing spiral, but Lance stopped it in its tracks when he went on (after a completely unnecessarily long dramatic pause).

        “You’re covered in blood, man, we need to clean you up first.” Keith’s heart picked up again.

        “Oh, right,” he said, relief washing over him. He spun right around and started to the kitchen without another word. Lance followed and when they reached the sink he pushed him aside. He pulled out a drying cloth and half wet it then wrung it out. Keith had stopped actively bleeding at some point, he’d barely noticed with everything going on. He mindlessly hopped up on the counter as he waited.

       Lance turned around with the cloth in hand and, after a pause, stepped right between his legs. He brought it up and started wiping Keith’s face clean and Keith just let him. He watched his expression of concentration as he carefully cleaned him up and gently felt his nose to see if it was actually broken. It seemed like he’d done this before. Keith remembered he had a lot of little cousins. Maybe they had the tendency to get bloody noses. That seemed likely if they were anything like Lance and there was a dozen of them running around.

       This all happened in relative silence. Lance, concentrated. Keith, well, just happy that the slightly puffy eyes looked out of place on Lance’s expression now.

        “You really think I’m hotter than Shiro?” he asked, finally breaking the silence. A silly grin was threatening its way onto his lips.

        “For some reason, yes,” Keith replied dryly. Everything felt so much lighter now. Keith’s whole world felt lighter, and teasing back at Lance was such a relief.

        “Tssh, because I’m devilishly handsome, that’s why,” Lance assured, confidently. Keith did all he could not to just grin, because after so many days he’d missed Lance’s conceited comments and self-praise. Lance did a delicate swipe on the underside of his nose, and Keith’s face twitched and scrunched up involuntarily. That seemed to be it, though, because he tossed the rag aside and pushed in closer. His hands set down on the counter to either side of Keith who was now just a hair taller than Lance instead of an inch shorter.

        “Yeah,” Keith agreed, with no touch of sarcasm in his voice. Lance looked smitten at that. He leaned forward and pressed their lips together. The kiss seemed delicate, likely in consideration for Keith’s nose, but maybe things just needed to be soft for both of them right now (not just for Keith’s face).

        “I’m really glad you ran into the door,” Lance mumbled into his lips. Keith pulled away just a bit.

        “Why?” he asked, leveling Lance with a confused stare.

        “Because otherwise I’d still be a little mad that I spent the last week thinking you were just using me,” Lance replied. “And being hunted down like an _animal_ ,” he tagged on with a huff.

        “Well… I guess I’m glad the door locked after you then?” Keith offered with a halfhearted shrug.

        “Oh, no, I locked it when I left,” Lance informed casually.

        “Hey!” Keith pushed him back a little, but Lance wrapped arms around him, not conceding an inch.

        “No, we’re even now. This is good,” Lance insisted from his place against Keith’s chest.

        “It’s not like I KNEW you thought I loved Shiro,” Keith retorted, sighing and giving up on shoving Lance off him (he didn’t really want him to go anywhere anyway).

        “That was the _whole thing_!” Lance pulled back enough to look at Keith, though he didn’t bother to stand up all the way. “And then you didn’t tell me you didn’t!”

        “Well, I thought it!” he shot back.

        “Wow!” Lance replied dryly.

        “Okay fine! I’m glad I hit the door too,” Keith snapped. Lance smiled and Keith suddenly felt like he was getting off too easy, “You know I _would_ have told you if you hadn’t gone into hiding, like a crazy person.”

        “Well, I would have run off into a desert and lived in a shack, but I’m kinda stuck on a space ship so that’s a bit hard,” Lance said. Keith glared at that. That was totally not a fair comparison and Lance knew it.

        “Fine! I’m sorry!” Lance conceded, pulling back so he could dramatically throw his arms up. “I was distraught! I thought the guy I was in love with loved someone else! Give me a break,” he demanded.

       There was a silence between them. “Oh,” was all Keith could get out. It was one thing to think it, to think it _about_ Lance, but to just have that clear confirmation that he felt the same…. It took a few long moments for Lance to realize what he’d just said. His eyes opened wider and panic quickly set in.

        “Well you said it first!” Lance shouted, more like an accusation than a confession. Keith felt an unusual amount of power over him then. A smirk he was sure was rather Lance like tugged the corner of his lips up.

        “I don’t think I said anything of the sort,” Keith informed. Lance went from confrontational to beet red in a second.

        “Well! You basically! I mean!” Lance started to pull away, but Keith’s legs wrapped around him and trapped him, forcing him back up against the counter.

        “I love you too,” Keith interrupted his stammering.

        “Oh my god Keith, you can’t just say things like that,” Lance blurted, finally making eye contact.

       Keith just… started laughing. It struck him as so absurd. He’d always thought Lance would be the suave one, able to deal with all the cheesy lines and romantic gestures. Here he was, though, a stammering mess when it came right down to it.

        “But I do,” Keith insisted, still grinning.

       Lance shoved his face into Keith’s chest forcefully and groaned. Keith just wrapped his arms around his head, leaning his own head down to lay over Lance’s. It would probably be a rather odd site to walk in on. Keith, sitting on the counter with his arms, legs, really his entire body wrapped around Lance’s top half. He wasn’t sure he could explain this if any of the rest of the crew had wandered in for a snack. Neither were concerned enough to move, though. Minutes passed as they just existed in each other’s arms. Keith’s giggle calmed with his heartbeat and Lance seemed content to just be smother by him for the time being. A few long minutes passed before either said anything more.

        “I’m sorry,” Lance murmured, though it was barely audible with how wrapped up in Keith he was, his mouth half pressed to Keith’s chest still. Keith reluctantly let him go, sitting up, but Lance didn’t pull back, instead continuing to speak into his chest. “I should have told you weeks ago.”

        “Weeks ago?!” Keith asked, “ ** _I_** didn’t even know until that morning you ran off,” he admitted. Lance finally pulled away from him.

        “Yeah, well, clearly! You were still thinking about Mr. Perfect Body,” Lance accused.

        “No! I just hadn’t thought about it at _all_ that hard!” Keith protested.

        “Yeah suuure,” Lance replied rolling his eyes.

        “Really!” Keith insisted, suddenly worried Lance really was misunderstanding. He had had to face an onslaught of his feelings for Shiro, and that was confusing, sure, but it wasn’t love. Well, it wasn’t _romantic_ love. He imagined Lance, worried about every glance he gave to Shiro, every hug, every affectionate look. Lance seemed to catch his panic though.

        “I’m teasing!” Lance assured, “God, Keith, I can’t imagine you lying about your feelings. That’s so… unKeith like. You’re too blunt to be manipulative like that. It’d be written all over your face.”

        “Thanks?” Keith wasn’t sure that was a compliment.

        “But seriously… uh, I’m sorry I ran off. I just… I saw all that stuff you were feeling about Shiro and I thought I could be all grown up about it, but when you kissed me I--,” Lance cleared his throat, “For a second I thought, ‘yeah, cool! I can just make out with him and it’s cool if he doesn’t love me back!’ And then I realized like, no that totally wouldn’t be cool. But… I knew if I saw you I’d either just fall right back into _that_ , and I couldn’t do that anymore if there wasn’t some hope you might feel the same. Or I’d—well, I’d do what I did… and scream and run away.” He redoubled his efforts to bury his face into Keith. “Both of those options sounded really awful so I figured I’d like cool down first, uhm, but I guess that didn’t exactly work out, with you hunting me and everything…”

        “Yeah… I guess that was a bit extreme. I just didn’t know what was going ON,” he said. He really hadn’t known what to expect when he found Lance. This probably wasn’t what he’d have ever come up with. He gently coaxed the other paladin off his chest, running fingers through his hair as he got him to stand up straight.

        “It was actually pretty impressive…” Keith noted. Lance perked up a little. “I was seriously trying to track you down! For _DAYS_.”

        “Yeah, I know. I was kinda involved,” Lance replied, but he seemed to be enjoying the bit of praise.

        “How did you get in and out of the kitchen? I had that room on lockdown,” Keith said. He’d honestly been baffled the last two days on that one. He’d thought he had things pretty secure.

        “Oh wouldn’t you like to know,” Lance teased.

        “Yes! It’s a total security risk,” But, well, maybe he was mostly just curious.

        “Uh-huh, and what happens if I need to escape you again in the future? Huh?” he challenged. Keith responded by tightening his legs around Lances waist.

        “I already caught you. It’s too late,” Keith informed. Lance opened his mouth but then closed it after a moment, seeming to flounder for a response. “What?”

        “I… only have really horribly cheesy lines to respond to that,” Lance admitted, seeming somewhere between sheepish and proud of that fact. Keith felt a grin split over his face.

        “Okay, tell me one of your cheesy lines,” he said, scooting a bit more to the edge of the counter, and pulling Lance right up against him in the process. Lance choked a little.

        “They’re no good if you’re _expecting_ them,” he insisted.

        “I’ll pretend I’m not expecting one.” Keith put on a serious expression. He really would. That seemed to make it worse. Lance was looking everywhere but at Keith.

        “You’re an idiot,” he muttered. That was perfect though! Keith had one for that and glee shot through him that he’d actually get to use the line he’d thought up a week ago. He could feel his face becoming ridiculous, but he didn’t care.

        “Yeah… but I’m _your_ idiot,” he said. Lance’s eye shot up to meet his, startled.

        “That was horrible!” Lance announced, aghast. “My lines are _way_ better!”

        “Yeah, but did it work?” Keith asked, leaning in towards his outraged teammate. Lance huffed.

        “Maybe,” he admitted, rather reluctantly.

        “Hmm,” Keith pulled back away, “Then doesn’t that mean its success rate is better than all your lines?” he asked.

        “Hey!”

        “I’m just saying; I’m 1 for 1. What’s your track record?” Keith challenged.

        “Oh, alright, we’re doing this. I’m picking you up! I am taking you back to my room and I am going to DEMOLISH you with cheesy pickup lines,” Lance stated solidly, a determined look in his eye. Keith was about to release his leg-lock, so he could jump down, laughing and agreeing. The laugh caught in his throat, though, when hands gripped his thighs and he found himself hoisted off the counter. Lance swung them around and he instinctively wrapped his arms around Lance, clinging to not fall. Keith’s panic subsided, but the yelped he’d emitted left a smirk on Lance’s face.

        “I said I’d pick you up didn’t I?” he asked with a wink. Keith was too busy to fully appreciate that first teaser of what was to come, because his mind was locked on the fact that Lance could just pick him up so easily. He wasn’t a huge guy, but he wasn’t small, and he was all muscle. He couldn’t stop his hands trailing over whatever he could get a hold of. Maybe Lance could take on Devenus on his own after all (that probsbly shouldn't make him so happy to imagine...).

        “Impressed?” Lance asked as he walked them out of the kitchen.

        “Kinda,” Keith admitted.

        “Great!” Lance said, “Because your heavy and can walk the rest of the way then.” Lance started to loosen his grip. Keith didn’t want to be put down yet, though.

        “So, you can’t carry me the whole way?” he asked. Lance took the bait immediately. His hands tightened on Keith and he pulled him in closer.

        “Of course I could.”

        “I don’t believe you.” He actually totally did, but that would get him tossed back down on his feet and he was really enjoying this too much to let the opportunity pass up. And Lance said he couldn’t be manipulative…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be a little slow getting the last chapter out. I'm horrible at ending things, haha. I've mentally started to wander, I've been writing shorts about Pidge. (Would anyone be interested in reading it? It wouldn't have any romance or anything, it'd mostly just be exploring nerdy space stuff and alien cultural ideas via Pidge).


	11. Fit Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith take the scenic route getting back to Lance’s room, and stop for dinner too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kinda all over the place because I have no idea how to end things, BUT I hope you enjoy it all the same! (And I hope my editing isn't too horrendous, this chapter was frankensteined together, but so was this whole fic so... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ lol)

       Pidge rounded out the door, grabbing the edge to swing around into the hall and was instantly faced with a disturbing scene. Lance had Keith pushed up against a wall. Now, this fact, in and of itself, probably would not have surprised any of their fellow paladins. Even the legs wrapped tightly around Lance’s waist wasn’t entirely unexpected (not with the level of sexual tension between those two idiots). What was, was the fact that neither of them could stop laughing.

       Keith might have been shoved against a wall, but it was clearly just to keep Lance’s from arms giving out as he shook with laughter. His head was behind Keith’s, forehead pressed to the wall as he tried desperately to compose himself. Keith, for his part, seemed just as determined not to let Lance drop him, clinging to him with every limb he could. His head was thrown back, eyes shut tight, and he looked near tears, his laughs coming out in breathy bursts edging on wheezing.

       Pidge watched as the two calmed enough for a moment of silence. When Lance pulled his head up enough for them to make eye contact, though, it crumbled with a snort from Keith. They dissolved into laughter again and Lances legs gave out, sliding the two of them to the floor.  Pidge had never seen either of them so unabashedly… happy (not to mention absolutely insane looking, but, well, insane and happy weren’t mutually exclusive, Pidge supposed).

        “Goddamn it Keith, you cheated!” Lance gasped out. Keith couldn’t even get a rebuttal out. Every time he tried he just burst into laughter. They made eye contact again then, on the floor, wrapped around each other and Pidge could instantly see where this was going.

        “Do you guys need _help_ or something?” Pidge had no intention of accidentally watching these idiots make out on the floor. Nope! Not happening.

       The two on the floor snapped to attention, Keith wide eyed and Lance just shy of glaring (as if Pidge were interrupting _them,_ and they weren’t the ones having their ‘moment’ right in the middle of the hallway).

        “No! Nope we’re fine,” Lance informed, stubbornly starting to gather Keith back up and try to stand them up again. Pidge raised a skeptical eyebrow at the mess of tangled limbs that was slowing trying to lift itself from the floor on a pair of wobbly chicken legs.

        “We’re good,” Keith agreed, trying his hardest to suppress his grin and look respectable. He was doing a horrible job. This all looked ridiculous and no amount of not smiling could make up for it.

        “Just going back to my place,” Lance added with a smirk.

        “One, ew,” Pidge began, putting up a finger, then adding another, “Two, about time. Three, Hunk’s gonna be making a special dinner because he finally figured out how to open those space eggs you and Coran brought home from shopping. So, whatever you two are doing, make it quick and dear god wash up afterwards.”

        “We might be a while…” Lance stated with a smirk.

        “One,” Pidge was back to just one finger, “Ew.”

        “Just have ours sent to my room,” Lance suggested.

        “Uh, no one is risking walking in on… any of that,” Pidge gestured to both of them and their absurd clinging that even Keith refused to give up on, despite having been caught in the act.

        “Have Spot bring it over, then!” Lance amended his suggestion.

        “I’m not letting Spot get scarred by your two’s filth!” Pidge was offended at very thought. Spot was a good, sweet robot and didn’t deserve such punishment.

        “Whatever, Pidge!” Lance said with a bit of a grunt as he finally got Keith and himself back to standing, Keith still wrapped around him. They giggled (honestly, giggled, Pidge was disgusted) _in unison_ as they prepared to move again.

        “Uhg, ew, but seriously, finally,” Pidge said, giving up on the two of them and deciding it was best to just move on. At least they weren’t chasing each other around the castle anymore…

 

       Things didn’t go quite as scandalously as Pidge had suspected (honestly, not even as much as Keith had expected). They ended up not even making it back to Lance’s room. It took some convincing to get Lance to ‘give up’, but when it became clear that they were both ravenously hungry, the loud growling of both their stomachs after the mention of Hunk cooking being part of that, Keith insisted he believed him. Lance relented, but only because he'd sustained himself on goop for almost a week now, those few spoonfuls of layered pudding aside (if he wasn’t so smitten he’d be mad he missed that when it was fresh while hiding from Keith. But he was very smitten, so it was no use being upset). So they returned to the dining area to snag some of Hunk’s cooking.

       As they started back to the kitchen, Lance finally letting Keith walk again, Keith couldn’t help but be a little bothered by their interaction with Pidge.

        “Did _everyone_ know before us?” Keith asked in earnest, because it was starting to stack up.

        “Wait! Know what? US? About us? Who else knew?” Lance asked, shocked.

        “Apparently Pidge,” Keith noted. Lance thought back on the conversation.

        “Yeah… which means probably Hunk too… those two gossip while they’re doing their nerd stuff,” he said with a serious expression.

        “And Coran apparently already _assumed_ we were dating,” Keith added.

        “What?!” Lance blurted, offended (for some reason).

        “And that guy who tried to kill you!” Keith added.

        “What?!—Wait, which guy?” he asked.

        “The guy from our last mission, _Devenus_ ,” Keith noted.

        “How do you know his name even?” He was frowning a little.

        “When I was interrogating him yesterday and he was all like ‘I was just trying to kill your boyfriend’,” Keith put on his best voice impression (which was objectively awful but whatever). “And then Coran called me out of the room, and was like ‘He’s flirting with you!’.” His Coran was a little bit better. He might have attempted it once or twice before. “And then Shiro was like ‘did he just say boyfriend?’—Oh, uh I guess Shiro knows too,” he trailed off.

        “Okay, so _everyone_ knows,” Lance stated, “But what do you mean he was flirting with you? He tried to shoot you!”

        “Uh… no, he tried to shoot _you._ That’s how they flirt, really aggressively,” Keith explained, “So, he thought I was trying to get him to come over and challenge you, I guess?”

        “That seems like a horrible way to flirt. You can’t just go running around planets shooting people’s boyfriends because you think they’re cute!”

        “Actually, it was because I spotted him earlier and was sizing him up, to see if he was a threat. And then I guess he was watching us and thought it was okay…”

        “ ‘Okay’?” Lance asked

        “Well, I guess we flirted a little aggressively too?” he replied with a halfhearted shrug.

        “So… you admit that you were flirting back then!” Lance said triumphantly.

        “I didn’t mean to be!” Keith burst but then trailed off into more of a mumble, “but, uh… I guess…”

        “You totally were,” Lance cooed, a little extra hop-skip to his couple of steps as he did.

        “Honestly, most of that day I was trying just not to die of a heat stroke, Lance,” he tried to insist, but he couldn’t completely get rid of the smile on his face, watching Lance’s subtle little ‘victory dance’ as they walked. It made him seem much less convincing (even if it _was_ the truth).

        “Well, you were giving _me_ a heatstroke with all your striping and posing and licking…” Lance trailed off. It took a moment before he knew what to say back. He was surprised Lance was _still_ thinking about that at all. He wished he’d been paying more attention to whatever the hell he’d been doing to get him so worked up. It’d be good to know for future reference. He hadn’t been thinking about keeping track of that sort of information back then, though. He’d have to start noticing what got Lance all hot and bothered (or maybe more importantly, blushing. That was also good).

        “I don’t remember licking,” he finally stated, thoughtfully.

        “You so did!” Lance burst back.

        “I believe you! You were clearly paying better attention than I was!” he agreed.

        “Yeah, well, you were too busy making eyes at some strange alien dude and inviting him to try to shoot me to win your affection, apparently.” Keith had to snort at that, holding back a laugh as best he could. He didn’t want them to devolve back into laughing again. They might never stop.

        “Hey, I could have just let you get shot, you know,” Keith reminded.

        “I did everything else, though. Hey! And that means, I totally won then!” Lance blurted, suddenly puffing up, “Knocked him right out!” Keith chuckled a little.

        “I’ll tell him that if he asks to fight you again,” he offered.

        “He wanted to fight me?” Lance asked.

        “Yeah, when I was trying to get info from him,” Keith said. He could see a glint in Lance’s eyes, like he had something great (read as ‘horrible’) to say to that, but they were walking back into the dining area by then and were interrupted by the kitchen door sliding open and loud stomping footsteps coming out.

       Hunk was not a particularly loud man usually, but when he had a bee in his bonnet, he had the tendency to throw his weight down full force to emphasize. And usually when he had a bee in his bonnet it was about something like this;

        “Who just LEFT a BLOOD SOAKED RAG—nono, let me correct, TWO BLOOD SOAKED RAGS out around the kitchen?” Hunk shouted, outraged. Keith and Lance exchanged wary looks and that was enough to incriminate them, apparently.

        “You guys, what the hell! That’s SO UNSANITARY!” Hunk managed to whine and shout at the same time. He looked pained that they wouldn’t realize how disgusting it really was. “What did you even DO to each other?” he asked, looking them over. “Keith is your shirt covered in blood?” He was squinting, honestly not seeming able to tell with the dark material masking what SORT of stain it was.

        “Oh…” Keith went to pull out his shirt and look at it and only them realized he was holding Lance’s hand. When had that happened? And now he’d just brought their linked hands right up in front of them, on display.

        “Okay, actually, never mind, I don’t want to know,” Hunk said, putting up both hands quickly. “Just whatever it is, don’t do it in the kitchen next time… I’m gonna need some gloves for this…”

        “Oh, calm down Hunk,” Lance insisted, “It’s just blood.”

        “I don’t need to know what you guys are into,” he replied as he dug for cleaning supplies. So, yes, Hunk apparently also knew, at least it was unshocking enough that he was ready to just make horribly inappropriate jokes rather than be any sort of shocked.

        “Hey!” Lance shouted. Hunk turned around at that, apparently happy he’d gotten such a rise. He wasn’t very good at hiding his smirks (he wasn’t very good at hiding any of his feelings, really). Lance wasn’t going to let that slide, “Don’t judge, Hunk. I’m pretty sure you once were in love with a vintage engine for a semester.”

       Hunk gasped, “Don’t talk about Lucy like that!”

        “Lucy?” Keith asked, or more, mumbled to himself, confused. He lost track of their little back and forth after that and opted instead to clean up the bloody rags they’d left behind instead. They were covered in his blood after all. That seemed to appease Hunk enough to get him back to cooking.

 

       Dinner was worth coming back for. Lance spent half the time groaning over how good ‘real food’ was after a week of goop, which he insisted repeatedly was Keith’s fault. Keith pouted, but didn’t really argue. He might have noted that if he’d just not run they could have solved this all a lot sooner, but, well, he’d rather just watch him go on about it all.

       He must have looked as mushy as he felt, leaning on a hand, watching Lance ranting and raving about food, because he got some looks so blatant from Pidge and Hunk that even _HE_ couldn’t misinterpret them. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but realized he didn’t really have anything to say, so he just shrugged and smiled a little wider. If they already knew anyway, why hide it? Lance didn’t seem to notice any of this, but that was fine.

 

       After dinner Keith rounded the table. The two had been separated, banished to opposite sides of the table because no one trusted them (it didn’t work; Lance’s legs were too long to be stopped by a mere table). He waved his hand for Lance to scoot back, which he hesitantly did. When there was room, Keith stooped down and came back up with Lance over his shoulder. He was too startled to even complain... For a few seconds.

       "What the hell Keith!?" came the delayed shout.

       "I figured I'd do the carrying this time.” Keith was already starting towards the door. Pidge and Hunk were snickering, which made Lance squirm in his grip. He held tight, though, not planning of letting him fall.

       "You do know that this is totally a way easier a way to carry someone, so I was way more badass,” he said after a few long moments of struggling to no avail.

       "It's called strategic carrying,” Keith replied.

       "I thought I was supposed to be the strategic one. You're the instincts one!" Lance said from over his shoulder.

       "Says who? We never heard what your lion looks for in a pilot," Keith smiled, knowing that was something that drove Lance crazy. Allura still refused, to this day, to tell him what she would have said about the blue lion on that first day in the castle. "Anyway. My instincts told me to carry you like this, so are we going back to your room or not?" Keith tagged on before he could actually start going on about it. He adjusted his hold on Lance, pulling his arm up and around him, by the time he realized where his hand was resting, then, though, it was too late.

        “Getting handsy there, Keith!” Lance said and Keith could _hear_ his eyebrows waggling in his voice. He turned a little pink but, well, his hand was already there so…

 

       They had barely gotten into the hall when they bumped into Shiro (they were never going to get to Lance’s room today at his rate).

        “Oh Keith g-,” Shiro faltered as he took in sight, the blue paladin slung over Keith’s shoulder, hand on his ass, “-ood…” he finished a bit more hesitantly.

       Keith quickly tossed Lance off his shoulder and back into his feet, standing up straight instantly. “Did you need something, Shiro?” Keith asked as Lance caught his balance and straightened himself up, grumbling a little.

        “Yes… well, we were just about to take Kelri Devenus to a ship so Coran and I can escort him back to a safe drop-off point. He became much more cooperative since your talk with him and has agreed to share with us his information on black market sales of Galra weaponry. We think this may lead us to someone willing to be an informant for us,” Shiro reported. Keith nodded dutifully.

        “Can we trust that guy?” Lance cut in. Keith thought that was fair enough, given circumstance.

        “Well, his information has checked out thus far,” Shiro said, “We’ll be wary following his leads, but it’s still the best chance we might ever get.” He paused, “Also, he was asking if he could say goodbye to you, Keith, so, if you’d like to meet us at the hanger...” he trailed off, leaving the option to refuse clearly hanging out there.

        “Oh…” Keith paused for a moment, but, well, what harm could come of it. He shrugged, “Sure, I guess.”

       Shiro nodded. “We’ll meet you there,” he said before starting off.

 

        “Do you really think we can trust a guy like that?” Lance asked. Keith thought about it for a moment before shrugging.

        “I trust Shiro’s judgement,” he said. He was too busy wondering what the alien could have to say to him, really. He felt like he was missing a social que, as per usual, and it was irking him. “Will you come with me over to the hanger bay?” he asked.

        “Uhhhg, Keeeeith, do we really have to go say goodbye to the guy that tried to shoot us?” Lance complained.

        “Just you,” Keith reminded.

        “Oh, that’s a lot better. And Shiro’s going to get his gun to give back to him. Real encouraging,” Lance muttered.

        “You don’t have to come,” he assured. Lance almost looked like he’d take him up on that for a moment and Keith was worried. He didn’t want to face this weird social interaction alone. Lance might sometimes make things a worse mess, but for the most part he made things easier for him to deal with. Lance caved after a moment.

        “Yeah, well, if you’re going to give me a look like _that_ I guess I don’t really have an option, huh?” Lance relented. Keith hadn’t realized he was even making a face, but, well, if that’s what it took. He nodded in thanks.

 

       They met up with Coran, Shiro, and Devenus in the hanger. As soon as the alien spotted Keith, he dropped what he was packing and headed over, a spring in his step. He stepped right up to Keith, reminding the young man that the alien had a good foot on him.

        “Keith,” he greeted warmly.

        “Devenus,” Keith replied evenly.

        “I thought I told you Kelri was fine,” the alien said in a soft ‘scolding’ tone.

        “I hear you have intelligence for us,” Keith said instead of acknowledging the request. Shiro and Coran were preparing the ship, leaving Keith, Devenus, and Lance who was now hovering a few feet behind Keith as per his request.

        “I know. I’m rather useful, aren’t I?” Devenus said. He leaned in towards Keith, but it was clear he was eyeing Lance. Lance, for his part, straightened up and shot the look right back at the alien.

        “We’ll see when we talk to your informant,” Keith replied.

        “So skeptical…” the alien didn’t actually seem to mind. “Well, I just wanted to say a proper goodbye, since you ran off to quickly last time we got to speak.” He reached a hand out and Keith instinctively took it, but was surprised when it wasn’t a shake he received. Instead, Devenus brought the hand up towards his mouth and Keith could only stare as he did. He felt his face heat up and that quiet sort of social panic he got when he didn’t know what to do rushed over him. He thought the alien was actually going to kiss his hand. Kiss it! Like he was some gentleman in an old-timey movie. Keith let out a breath of relief when Devenus turned his hand around, but it was short lived when instead Devenus **_bit_** him, right in the squishy part at the base of his thumb. Keith probably should have yanked his hand away, but he was too confused. He ended up just staring the alien right in the eye as he squeezed his jaw tight enough it hurt, but not enough to break skin.

        “Uhm… excuse me?” Keith finally found the words. Lance had also found his way right up to Keith’s side by now. Devenus let the hand go, pulling away with a satisfied look in his eyes as he saw the indentation of his teeth in the skin. It would fade fairly quick, but for now, it was there.

        “What the hell was that, buddy?” Lance snapped. Keith was frowning at his hand. They’d had to accommodate a lot of strange alien customs and Keith was never sure which he was socially obligated to adhere by and which he could say overstepped his own cultural boundaries. He was fairly sure he could yell at Devenus for this one, but luckily Lance was there to do it for him. That was why he wanted Lance to come with him, honestly. He hadn’t known it why he did, but it was this.

        “What, are you bothered?” Devenus asked Lance, a little smirk all but on his lips, waiting for the reply.

        “No, but I think Keith is,” Lance replied without a thought. Keith smiled softly. Lance had certainly laughed at Keith having to get involved with weirder alien customs, but he was a little touched that Lance had noticed this one actually had Keith uncomfortable.

        “So, you’re saying, you aren’t bothered by it at all?” Devenus asked, not seeming to believe this. When Lance didn’t seem to have an answer right away, he went on, “If Keith here gave the go ahead, you’d do nothing to stop me?” he asked for clarification.

       Lance didn’t seem to know what to say, at first, “Keith can make his own discussions. I just happen to know that Keith has better taste in men than _you_ , and you are clearly making him uncomfortable.”

       They both looked to Keith to confirm. He nodded, trying to look serious when he really just wanted to—he wasn’t sure, but probably start with kissing Lance.

        “My apologies. I was just trying to make my intentions clear, _Keith_ ,” he really enjoyed getting to say his name, as it made the paladin’s face scrunch up a little. “I didn’t want my actions to be misinterpreted as hostile again.”

        “How is biting someone the appropriate way to do that?” Lance asked skeptically. Devenus frowned at Lance, and looked to Keith for more understanding, but he didn’t find it.

        “You should ask before you bite,” Keith suggested.

        “You might have said no,” Devenus countered.

        “That’s no excuse! You can’t just force yourself onto someone like that. You have to ask permission before you go putting your MOUTH all over people” Lance burst in. Keith gave him a look, a raised eyebrow, ‘not quite sure how to call you out’, sort of look. Their relationship hadn’t exactly started with words and clear boundaries. Lance, upon noticing the look, instantly turned on Keith, “Oh stop it! You’re the one who kissed ME first!” he informed. Keith stared.

        “What? No, I didn’t. You just got… up in my face that one day and then we were making out!”

        “I got all up in your face, but you’re the one who closed the gap,” Lance insisted.

        “I—maybe, but you were already up in my face and clearly about to kiss me anyway!” Keith said.

        “No! I waited! I really did! I nearly didn’t Keith. Oh my GOD it was hard to wait!” Lance insisted arms breaking out of their tight crossed posture they’d held while talking to Devenus so that they could wave wildly for emphasis.

        “There was like .2 seconds between you being up in my face and my closing the gap,” Keith said dryly.

        “Yeah! And that was the longest .2 seconds of my LIFE!” Lance threw back. Keith opened his mouth to argue, but he had no argument. That was just… incredibly cute. Keith snorted a little and had to look away, throwing a hand over his face.

       Devenus stood, hands on his hips, unable to even cut into the conversation with anything. “I suppose you two really are bonded…” he finally interrupted. The two looked over to him, surprised. “Don’t take that as sign that I’m giving up,” he tagged on. He twisted his hand and flicked a card out of his hand. He offered it towards Keith. “If you ever need my help saving the galaxy,” he said, “Or help with anything else.”

        “What ‘else’ would he need you for?” Lance challenged.

        “Well, if he ever needs someone to kick your ass, for one,” he replied, giving a sharp look to Lance, before offering a smile to Keith, “he only has to ask.”

       Lance, Keith imagined, prickled to respond but, he was silent. Keith was surprised and when he glanced over to see what was going on he found Lance looking at him. Lance nodded to him and Keith’s lips twitched up.

        “I’ll kick his ass if his ass needs kicking,” Keith assured, keeping his little smile.

        “There ya go,” Lance said, throwing an arm around Keith and grinning. Keith leaned into arm without thinking and Devenus sighed, defeated.

        “Keep my contacts anyway,” Devenus said.

       Keith agreed and that seemed to appease him. He left with Shiro to be left at the nearest friendly port.

        “That was…” Lance began but didn’t even seem to know how to finish, so Keith did for him.

        “Weird.”

        “I was going to say hilarious,” Lance said, pushing off Keith’s shoulder and turning around. He reached back to grab his hand, then paused seeming to have second thoughts. He then took it, rubbed off where Keith had been bitten on Keith’s shirt, before inspecting it. Keith frowned, but didn’t stop him. He thought he should probably be a little more proactive today, but he was so done trying to figure _people_ out.

        “WOW!” Lance said, examining the hand, “He really left some imprints, huh?”

        “You’ve left worse,” Keith replied.

        “Yeah, but I’m also devilishly handsome and charming,” Lance reminded. “Don’t try to deny it! You already agreed earlier,” he said, throwing up a hand to preemptively shush Keith.

       Rather than argue Keith just shrugged, “Sure did,” he said and leaned over and hoisted him up like a sack of potatoes again. Lance barely even gasped in surprise this time, instead he just complained,

        “You know this really isn’t all that romantic of a way to carry someone around.”

        “You can be the romantic. We have places to be,” Keith replied.

        “Do we?” Lance asked.

        “We were heading to your room,” he reminded.

        “We were,” he agreed. He let an arm drop down and patted Keith’s butt as an all’s clear, “Allright then! Let’s go!” he said with enthusiasm. Keith just laughed and started out into the hall, determined not to be stopped anymore on their way back to Lance’s room.

 

       When they finally managed to make it to Lances room, Keith threw Lance on the bed without any sort of ceremony. Despite all his thoughts on the way over about how he was going to crawl over him, trailing kisses as he went, because he _could_ … well instead he just took one look at him, smiling as he recovered from being tossed and he flopped forward onto the bed too. Lance ‘oof’ed, but didn’t complain when Keith just shoved his face into his shoulder, half laid over him. It hadn’t really been a particularly long day, but it’d been a long _week_ and he felt drained (not unhappy but _drained_ ). He took a few deep breaths as Lance’s hand found his hair, fingers combing through it. He let out a last deep breath and felt at peace.

        “Do I ‘smell good’?” Lance teased. Keith didn’t need to look up to see the smirk on his face.

        “Yeah, I get it. That was a weird thing to say,” Keith grumbled, pushing himself up to stare down at Keith, “But you know what?”

        “What?” Lance asked, and of course his suspicions were confirmed, he was smirking. He looked so damn pleased with himself.

        “You DO smell good,” he informed. “Well, no, you smell like Lance. But for some reason I like it.”

       Lance grabbed his head and pulled him back down against him, wrapping both arms around him, “You’re gonna make me blush,” he replied, giving Keith’s head a squeeze.

        “Good,” Keith replied from where he was stuffed against Lance’s chest.

 

       They spent the evening finding out how they fit together. Not in the amorous way that he was sure Hunk and Pidge would tease them about regardless (Keith had already decided he wasn’t going to boater denying it). Instead they just spent the evening together, sprawled out as they lounged in Lance’s bed. They found out who was the better big spoon, which shoulder was more comfortable to lean on, how their fingers felt laced together, and who’s thumb rested more comfortable on top (it was Lances, but mostly because he liked to run his thumb in little circles over Keith’s hand. He always had to be moving a little, it seemed. Keith liked that, the little motions whenever Lance held him). It was something, as it turned out, Keith had wanted to do from the beginning. It’s something he hoped they wouldn’t stop doing.

       They weren’t really doing anything, but that somehow made it better. At some point Lance pulled out a little bit of technology Pidge had picked up a few weeks ago. It reminded Keith of some sort of weird cross over between those toys where you had to get all the little metal balls into the divots in the maze and a Gameboy. He pulled Keith into his lap and they took turns trying to figure out how to play it. Keith grumbled at Lance’s ‘back seat gaming’ but he actually liked it. The half shouts of excitement on his ear when Lance leaned in to point emphatically at what he should do next. The tightening of Lances grip when they got to the final challenge of the level. It felt like it should have been like this from the beginning, like they had been so close the whole time that this barely seemed new, but it was.

       The night went on like that. No one bothered them (likely assuming they were doing something other than just holding hands and snuggling in every strange position they happened to fall into).

       It was late and, while they hadn’t said it, Keith was fairly sure he was staying the night when Lance forced him to barrow some pajamas when he started on his seemingly unending evening routine (Keith had refused the offered face scrub but taken the tooth brush after a moment. They’d already shared enough mouth germs he couldn’t see the harm).

        “You know… this is a little weird,” Lance said, when they’d settled back down. He was looking up from Keith’s chest, chin resting on his sternum. He couldn’t look up any further without disturbing Keith who had a little laptop like device set up over Lance’s back as Lance laid over him (he hadn’t even complained at being a table).

        “Hm?” Keith hummed back casually, finishing the bullet point he was reading before looking away from the information that Devenus had left with Shiro. After a moment he considered their posture. He stopped both his hands, one hand on Lance’s hair, twisting around in it, and the other on the device. He looked down at Lance, between his legs. It was… admittedly a little weird. “Oh… I guess,” he said starting to move, for the first time that evening a little self-conscious about how they were wrapped up together.

        “Noooo, not **this** ,” Lance replied, stopping Keith was moving away forcefully. “I mean just… that we can be doing this. Like… there’s only 5 of us humans in… however many lightyears away from earth we are, and—,” Lance paused, his voice had gone soft enough that Keith closed the reports and pushed them off Lance’s back so he could get a better look at him. Lance didn’t look up, though.

        “I guess I was thinking about that thing you asked weeks ago, about destiny,” he pulled his hands under his head, and over Keith’s chest, “I wasn’t really feeling it back then, but you have a point about the impossible odds thing. I don’t think _this_ is just because we’re the only humans around, you know? Clearly we could both get space laid if we wanted,” he said, a bit of his usual cockiness poking through the sincere tone.

        “Well, apparently I could’ve if I’d just let you get shot,” Keith replied with a chuckle.

        “Hey, I totally woulda won in a real fight,” Lance insisted, pushing up to look at Keith and shove a finger into his sternum for emphasis. Keith just smiled and Lance flopped back over, apparently embarrassed by that response. “I’m just saying I’m glad you’re in space with me,” he said softly. Keith wrapped his arms around Lance, and, pressed flushed up against him. He could feel Lance’s heartbeat very distinctly in this position, and that meant he felt that it was beating a little faster now. It made his speed up a little to match.

        “You and your mullet,” he added. Keith jerked up, offended that he would ruin such a lovely moment! Seriously!?

       Without a though, Keith threw him right off the bed. Lance, in a show of his ever increasing reaction time, grabbed a hold of Keith and managed to drag him off the edge with him. They landed in a heap on the floor with a wheeze.

        “Yeah, me too,” Keith agreed in half a groan. “Reaaaal glad you’re in space with me too,” he said in a sarcastic tone, but he meant it. Lance laughed and that was good enough for Keith. He didn’t even care if they stayed on the floor like this because, well, they fit together like this too…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ALL FOR READING! ♥♥♥  
> Your comments have given me life and you're all wonderful for sticking through this whole fic with me!~
> 
> ~~~
> 
> As I said, I'm horrible at ending things, SO working on a few follow ups including:  
> -[A fic set few years down the road](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8569507): **Completed**  
>  -[Keith and Lance's first time](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8842795/chapters/20277289): **WIP**  
>  -More Devenus (because I have no self control): **TBA**  
>  And more! Check out [the rest of the series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/587095) if you want more Voltron stuff!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, because I think it's important, not _everyone_ already knew. Allura had no idea there was anything going on (the mice tried to tell her but she didn't understand what they were pantomiming to her).


End file.
